Musketeers
by TheMarauderBandit
Summary: They would always be the three musketeers. No matter what happened, nothing would change that. That's what Spot was sure of, until the war started. Now he has to decide between his city and his best friends. Rated T for language.
1. Prologue

_Hey, this is a new story of mine. Don't worry, I will get back to Scout Me Out soon. This is only a prologue, and it's quite short. But for now, buon divertimento! ;)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize._

_Note: The italics are memories, of the same conversation. I planned it so she wasn't thinking it at the time of the paragraphs. However, read them however you like :)_

_~Bandit_

_**Warning: There is a lot of swearing and pain (abusive, kind of) sorry if this offends you.**_

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><p>Musketeer<p>

Prologue

_"No. There is no way in hell I'm going back to Brooklyn. You remember what happened last time, right, Jacky-boy?"_

Birdy curled up in a ball, goosebumps snaking up her arms as she sat shivering in the dark corner. Oh God, please don't let this be happening, she thought to herself as she pressed her fists into her eyes, willing her puzzled mind not to allow herself to cry. Please let this be a dream.

_"Of course I remember, I was the one who had to save your ass from getting soaked."_

Thunder rumbled from outside her shelter, shaking the ground. It seemed as though every muscle in her body ached; every bone broken. Perhaps she'd just die here. That sounded marvelous.

_"He didn't mean to, Jack, give him a break. It was an accident, and you know that. Queens pushed him to it."_

The three musketeers. That's what they called themselves, but it wasn't as fun as it had seemed ten years ago, when they were mere children. Loving, caring about someone so deeply had it's consequences. She moaned pitifully, her eyes shut so tightly they hurt, her hands clawing blindly at her own arms, drawing blood with her fingernails, but she didn't stop. Pain. It gave her something to focus on. Something to focus on other than them.

_"Bullshit he didn't mean to. That look in his eyes, I know it well—we both do, Birds. He was determined. And since when has Queens been more important then you?"_

She let out a dry sob, but stopped herself before tears flooded from her eyes. Is this what he would've wanted? He'd trained her better than that. There was no crying tolerated in Brooklyn. That much was clear. But she wasn't in Brooklyn anymore, was she?

_"Since Hops. Damn it, Jack, don't turn him into something he's not. He ain't no bastard, and he ain't no monster. He has a heart."_

As she rocked back and forth, tears racking her body, she heard the familiar creaking of her door. They were coming into her bedroom, illuminating the heart-breaking scene with the light from the hallways, but she didn't open her eyes. Nothing mattered.

_"That's news. He has a heart? Never knew. We both know it was him who betrayed us, not you. We both know it was him who turned Brooklyn into a place of torture and misery. Not you!"_

She didn't know if it was the bulls, newsies, or even Kloppman for that matter. But she wasn't really bother about it either. Hell, let them soak her. Even if it was Robin, sweet, sweet Robin, at this point, she couldn't have cared less. A pair of strong, calloused hands grasped her upper arms. Bulls.

_ "How could you say that? You're his best friend. I lived there for a year. It wasn't torture, and it wasn't misery!"_

They heaved her to her feet, and for the first time in what seemed like hours, she opened her eyes to reveal two chiseled, square faces with evil intentions. The light from the doorway seeping into her skull, feeding her migraine, but that was the least of her problems. She tried standing, but instead collapsed, the pain unbearable. The bulls glanced at her for a split second, as though regarding a speck of dirt, making no attempt to help the sorrow-filled girl.

_"You're my best friend too, remember? And besides, how can you stick up for him after the way he treated you? Just last week you were ranting about how horrible he was!"_

When Birdy came to, she was being dragged by her hair down the stairs of the lodging house, her body banging painfully against each step with a sickening 'thud'. Tears pooled in her eyes, the inconsiderate actions of the officers opening up old scars on her back, but she welcomed the agonizing sensation. It soothed her injured heart. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut once more.

_"Because I care about him! Because I grew up with him! Because I know what the real him is like! And you do too. I was foolish last week, Cowboy. My demons were getting to me; tormenting me."_

She felt slightly relieved when they finally stepped onto ground level, yet she still had that yearning for wounds. She wanted to go back, and be thrown onto the steps once again. The torture felt nice, compared to what she'd been going through in the last month. Instead, the coppers dragged her into the lobby, her limp body sweeping up the layers of dust that rested on the nail-covered hardwood floor, earning a stern look from Kloppman, who could obviously think of better ways of transporting a criminal who'd just been through a great deal of trauma.

_"So, what changed? Did your demons just up and leave? Explain, Birdy, 'cause I'm not buyin' it."_

The old man's judging gaze shifted from the coppers, to her. As she looked down at a book, obviously straining his eyes to read the font, Birdy snapped into realization. He'd expected her to fight for them; her friends, her brothers. Her musketeers. But she hadn't, she'd given up. What else was there to do? All was lost. There was no point.

_"No, my demons did not just leave; they simply took a little vacation. And my explanation is this, Jack, and only this: I talked to Barny."_

The journey continued, as they tugged her hair harder to get her the rest of the way. Once again, tears welled up in her eyes at the sharp stings. As she slid past Kloppman's desk, she sent him a sorrow-filled look, and his harsh gaze quickly turned soft, pity filling his dull eyes.

_"What has Barny got to do with it? Why is she important?"_

She tore her gaze away from her old friend, and focused it on other things in the lodging house. She spotted little things, like that rock laying on the floorboards they were about to run over. Ouch. The copper's steps grew shorter as they neared the doorway, causing her body to bounce off the floor again. It hurt so bad, but she didn't protest. She couldn't; wouldn't.

_"You know Barny. She knows every single thing about that kid, more than we do. I talked to her about something. I guess you could say I had a change of heart."_

They pulled her through the doorway, giving her head another gash, bruising her fevered skin even more, but she allowed herself to be bumped around. Broken. What was another tinge to pain to her growing collection? It didn't really matter now anyways. She'd failed her brothers. She'd failed her musketeers.

_"What'd she say? What could she have possibly said that could have possibly made you forgive him? He's a bastard."_

It was raining when they yanked her outside, and her body was overcome with shivers at the cold wind. She managed a small groan, but allowed her small frame to be thrown over the officer's shoulder. He carried her towards a dark carriage that sat in the shadowy gloom, before throwing her into the open door.

_"What she said doesn't matter. What matters, is the fucking thought. I trust him, Jacky. And besides, if you hate him so much, why do you want to go to Brooklyn? And why do you want to drag me along with you?"_

She flew over the leather seat, and collided with the side, her head banging painfully against the metal. She sat there, slumped against the edge, not possessing the energy, nor motivation to move her head away from the jagged wall. And she was looking out the large window anyways, the wind drying her lips, and stinging her eyes. The cart started off, throwing her back and forth between blunt surfaces like a rag doll, nausea filling her, cold sweat sweeping over her, but whenever she tried to stop herself, a burning sensation rushed through her like a wave. But, Birdy mused as she once again smacked into the wall, it didn't really matter. From her view from the carriage, she spotted something huge, heartwarming, familiar. The bridge. She was going to end up in Brooklyn anyways.

_"To take the third musketeer down."_

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><p><strong>AN: So yeah, suspenseful ending. Review it, please! The next chapter should be up soon. Thanks, and have a great day :)**


	2. Ice

_Hey, sorry for the sluggish updating... writing this wasn't easy. Sorry for the complete change of writing, it's not anything like the first chapter, but I wanted to write the relationship between Jack and the others. Next chapter you'll see Spot, and it might have the same feel, but it'll be a little quicker, and maybe a little darker. Hope you enjoy, buon divertimento!_

_I don't own anything you recognize._

_Characters are little AU._

_Oh, and I'm horrible at writing with the New York accent, so I didn't bother putting it, since it would be a pain for me to write, and probably for you to read._

_~Bandit :)_

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><p>Musketeer<p>

Chapter 1: Ice

She never wanted the strike to happen in the first place. It was against her better judgment that it did. She wanted the prices to go down, being a Newsie at heart, but she knew it wasn't going to happen with some action happening. But she would've been satisfied with anything but a strike. She'd heard they were violent, and horrible. She had good resources, and sometimes she read the titles of the newspapers Jacky gave to her, but she mostly only bought them to get him money; she'd heard of killings in strikes. She'd heard of workers being thrown into jail; beaten, tortured. She didn't want that for her Newsies. She never wanted anything to happen to them. Every day, when she went to work on the docks, she always worried. But, now she knew she'd have to worry more. _Damned Newsies. _

Various calls rang through the air as Birdy leaned against a nearby alleyway wall. She folded her arms, pursed her lips, fingering the bag around her shoulder. She scanned the crowd of Newsies with her dark eyes, before scrunching up her freckled nose. She pulled an eyeglass out of her pocket, and placed it up to her eye, trying to spot Jack, but to no avail. He was the dang leader, her best friend, and she couldn't see him. She gave a huge sigh. She'd just come back from Queens, where she'd stayed for a year, doing work for Snyder, who she absolutely despised, and wanted nothing more than to visit Cowboy. But, despite the strike being the product of his words, she couldn't find him. That was, until she heard a few familiar voices.

"Yeah, right. Okay, you guys, you gotta be ambastards and go tell the other that we're on strike," Birdy stifled a laugh, and instead grinned, unlatching herself from the wall as Jack spoke, walking slowly towards the cluster of her friends. She zoned out, something she often did while people talked to much, grinning at the passing Newsies, who all, surprised to see her back so soon, all winked at her. As she passed through the crowd, she received a shower of laughs, smiles, and kisses on the knuckles, in which she returned the favor in a quick smooch on the cheek, or a one-armed hug. Finally she'd made it towards the front, barely concealed. "So, what about Brooklyn?"

This acknowledged a snigger from the girl, who knew full well the fear the Newsies had of Spot. She laughed as they all shifted around, purposely adverting their eyes, "Come on, Spot Conlon's territory!" _That's the problem Jacky-boy_, Birdy grinned to herself, as she looked up and finally met Jack's gaze. He smirked, obviously happy to see her back, but not wanted to show it in front of his boys. "What'sa matta? You scared of Brooklyn?"

This earned a small laugh from Birdy, who muttered a quiet, "No." She quickly deflected the evil looks the other Newsies were shooting at her, laughing at their tactics. They didn't want to admit someone they knew, a girl no less, was braver than them. She would've been terrified, if she hadn't grown up with him. "Hey, we ain't scared of Brooklyn," Boots spat, his chin up, his jaw set. He stopped, rubbed his neck, and looked up at Jack guiltily as he added in a less valiant voice, "Spot Conlon makes us a little nervous."

Birdy stepped forward to Jack's side, "He ain't that bad guys." Many of the Newsies cheered at the sight of her, their friend.

"Well, he don't make me nervous. So you and me, Boots, we'll go to Brooklyn. And Dave here can keep us company," this earned many cheers from the crowd of street rats. Birdy smiled, and whistled, before taking one, huge sweeping look of the newest member.

He didn't look like he could handle Brooklyn. Maybe Spot would be easier on him with his two best friends and Boots there. He always acted so innocent around the kid. She grinned at Jack, before pulling him into the shadows, and tackling him in a hug, "Hey Kiddo," he ran a hand through her hair, before pulling back.

"Jack, I'll come only if you deliver our demands to Pulitzer," and suddenly Jack was heaved back into the spotlight by this David kid.

Jack's eyes widened, and he started shifting nervously among his group of Newsies, "Me? To Pulitzer?"

"You sure Davey here will be able to take on Brooklyn?" She whispered in his ear, scanning the crowd for a Brooklyn Newsie. They constantly merged with the Manhattan Newsies to gather information. The last thing they needed was a messenger warning Spot. He'd never let them within five-hundred feet of his city.

David nodded smugly, "You're the leader, Jack," Birdy silently cursed him. The kid was smart. Jack contemplated his options, before nodding at her. She smiled at him encouragingly, before winking at him.

"Well, maybe the kid'll soften him up a bit," Jack stepped down from his perch, and grabbed a small kid by the collar. She laughed, and cheered along with the others, before clapping Jack on the back. He slipped inside the building, and for a moment, everything was completely still. Then, everyone started wandering away, grinning and high-fiving each other.

Birdy instead turned to Dave, "Brooklyn's a tough place, Dave, you gotta prepare yourself. A lot of stuff happens there. Scary stuff," she gave him one of her looks, the icy ones. It wasn't that she didn't like him, she did, it was just she didn't want them all to get soaked. And God knows they will if they step in during one of Spot's moods.

Dave ignored her warning, and arched his eyebrows, "And who are you? Why are you so special? You're not a Newsie, are you?"

He didn't talk with the regular accent. She breathed a sigh of relief. So she wasn't the only one, "I'm Birdy. I worked for Snyder, not that I enjoy it, but because I kinda have to. But, I get a lot of good information for Brooklyn and Manhattan. That's why I was nicknamed Birdy. I'm kinda a bird. Get it? Anyways, I grew up with Spot and Jack. I lived near them during my childhood, and coincidentally, we moved to Manhattan together, before Spot shifted on to Brooklyn. I still see him a lot though. That's all you really need to know about me."

David took in the information, "Do you have a real name, Birdy?"

"No," She couldn't help herself from snapping, "Sorry, but I don't."

"And if you and Jack know Spot so well, why are you both so worried about what's gonna happen?" he crossed his arms.

She snorted, "Jack's not scared. Never assume things. Jack's never scared of Brooklyn. The thing is, Spot would soak me without a second thought if I did something to jeopardize his city, or if I did something he didn't like. He's done it once, he'd do it again. The same goes for Jack. Jack steps into his city, with one too many people, Spot would assume we're trying to take over his city, and call his boys from their selling. That city means the world to him. We don't know what he's going to do when he lays eyes on you."

"Yeah, but why are you so worried? You're not coming, are you?" he argued, "Are you?"

"Not, I'm sure as hell not coming," she grinned, "I'm worried because of Boots. You're not gonna be able to protect him if something did happen."

She could feel his eyes piercing her in the back of the head, as she went to go talk to Itey, her least favorite Newsie. She knew it was bad to pick favorites in her group of friends, but you end up hearing rumors you don't wanna hear when you hang around the different cities. Not every place is as nice as Manhattan.

Birdy'd just started a game of cards with Itey, when a loud bang rang through the air, and Jack was thrown from the door, his hand still on the back of Les's shirt to keep him from falling, "Well, so's your old lady! You tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with _me_!" Birdy smirked, rolling her eyes at Jack's manner.

Les turned, looking as cute as ever, "Yeah!" This time, she let herself crack up.

"Oh lord, Jacky, I don't think you're going to get on his good side like that," she chuckled as he stormed up to her.

"Shut up," he spat, fuming, "Who's this bimbo?" he was pointing towards the man David was talking to.

Birdy shrugged, "I dunno, I was playing cards. He lost me at the word 'strike'."

Jack shot her a look that made her shiver. "I'll go see what he's about. Come with me?"

She shook her head, stepping back, and checking her watch, "Sorry Jack, I forgot to tell you I'm only here for a short while. I gotta go report back to Snyder. Hopefully he'll let me go early. If not, don't wait around. Good luck with Spot."

He growled, his eyes burning, before he softened, pulling Birdy towards him and kissing her forehead, "Thanks, Birds."

She grinned, before turning on her heel, calling a goodbye to the Newsies, and sprinting off in the direction of the refuge. Jack watched her go, before turning towards the well-dressed man, "Hey Davey, who's this?"

iIiIi

As Birdy weaved through the alleyways of the city, she couldn't help her heart dropping. She wanted nothing more than to go to Brooklyn, but she hadn't seen Spot in over a year, and she wasn't sure of how he'd react. They used to be so close, but it'd been a while since she fully trusted the king. She ducked into an alleyway, pulling out a pocketknife to try the locked wooden door to the side. She'd been here often, so it came as no surprise that it was barred. As she worked the knife around and around, she heard approaching footsteps. She cursed, ran a hand over her face, and turned.

She was used to Queens, Harlem, and Brooklyn hosting beggars and thieves, but never Manhattan. 'Hattan was the goody-goody place, so she was taken aback at the two men, both holding knives, dressed in black as to hide in the shadows when needed. Birdy forced herself to take a deep breath. "How's it goin', boys?"

They just continued to saunter towards her. So they weren't here for conversation. She gulped. And pointed her knife in their direction. She had only one option. She braced herself, before racing forward, slipping past the thugs, and heading towards the busy street. She was running, and she was halfway there when a burning sensation took over her body like lava swimming through her veins. A burst of agony exploded through her chest. It felt like everything was gone; just her and the pain, she couldn't scream, she couldn't breath. There was nothing to do but suffer.

She shook from the pain and walked faster placing one foot in front of the other hazardously. Her head was swimming, the torment was so fierce that her pores had begun leaking from the effort to stay standing. She wasn't going to make it without loosing consciousness. But determined like she was, she pushed herself, inflicting more harm.

The excruciating sensation grew with every step she took. Sweat was pouring off her skin like rain, plastering her bangs into her eyes. She could barely see, with the blaring sun shining in her sensitive eyes, causing her head to pound more. Her legs shook from the effort and her lungs flamed making it harder for her to breathe. This was it, she wouldn't be making it any farther.

The ground rose up to meet her as she fell to her knees, her breath leaving her in a small cry. The world began to circle around her, as if taunting her, and her throat contracted as she tried to continue to breathe. She clenched her eyes shut, though everything continued to spin. She clutched at her sides, as though they were lifelines that would save her, but her nails digging past her clothes and into her skin did nothing to help her. She forced herself to continue to inhale and exhale, though there seemed to be no air around her. She didn't want to die this way.

She could sense the men approaching her from behind, their footsteps barely reaching her eyes above the noise of her own hammering head. She flailed around as they tried to take hold of her, and she snapped her eyes open, forcing the pain away. She pivoted on her knees, despite her condition, and swung her legs around to cause one of the men to crumple. She willed all her strength, and gathered herself up onto her own two feet, only to feel a wave of nausea sweep through her. Her knees buckled, but before she collapsed, she managed to lunge slightly forward to knock the other down with a blow from her fist. She fell towards the ground, hitting it with a roll, before forcing herself into a somersault. She pulled herself up into a crouching position, her hair falling over her face like a curtain as the men started to stir. They were in for more than they expected from a girl.

One of the thugs sprang towards her, his hands extended so he would reach for her throat, but Birdy dived out of the way, before turning around, and landing a well-aimed kick at his back. She struck him over the head, knocking him flat onto the ground. Before she had time to react, the second was upon her, and she wasn't fast enough to dodge his blows. He pinned her to the ground, landing fierce blows to her body, never stopping.

Her face tingled with pain, her eyes watered as he continued to beat her. She wriggled about, trying to free from his grip, but his huge arms held her down. She felt hopeless as he continued, and she was sure he would punch her to death, but she still tried to gain freedom anyways. It was useless, though she did manage to land a few blows of her own. Just as his strikes became slightly harder, more ferocious, he went flying up against the nearest wall, and she was alone, lying on her back, staring up at the sun, her body raw from the pain. She quickly scrambled up, realizing the brute had been attacked, and turned to face her rescuer, only to scowl. God, anyone but him.

Warden Snyder grabbed her by the arm, no gentler than the muggers, and lead her out of the alleyway, dusting the grime off her in sharp, painful swats. She managed to look up at him, covering up the hate in her eyes, only to receive a sharp smack to her mouth. She instantly broke eye contact. God, she hated him. "What were you doing not reporting back to me?"

He barely managed to keep from yelling. There were people around, after all, and she could tell he was mad for having to save her. She was still sore, but she managed to keep up with his fast pace, "Mr. McCormick, sir. Ian McCormick. He was my last stop, before you. I just had to deliver this message to him."

She pulled out a letter, the one addressed to the Irish bartender. She was glad Snyder didn't recognize his tavern, "Well McCormick can wait," he snatched the memo out of her hand, causing her to stumble back a few steps. She jogged back up to where he was, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that spread through her left side, before it dissolved slowly, "I told you to meet me at refuge at twelve _exactly_! And I find you, provoking two thugs, at twelve o' _five_."

She refrained from lashing out at the man, instead held her tongue, and continued in her strangely polite manner, "I was going to come straight back for you sir, I swear. I'm sorry for disobeying you. It won't happen again."

"It'd better not," he sneered, before regarding her with a look he saved for the dogs. She knew she had tons of wounds littering her face and arms, but wasn't really concerned about that. The pain, the one in her sides, was getting worse. That troubled her. She hated being so frail in the first place, but a fatal injury, maybe disease, would make her even more so. A sneer passed over her face, before she allowed herself to be led into the refuge.

It was dark and damp, only a few pitiful lamps lighting up the shadows. It was an obscurity, shading the usually bright city of Manhattan. She hated everything about the place; the musty smell, the jeering calls from the hopeless prisoners, the warden. She looked up at the blonde-haired man with distaste, scowling as she was dragged through the hallways, tripping and stumbling. She knew the way around like the back of her hand, but it was darker, and her eyes hadn't adjusted yet. She hated the one moment, the moment when she was completely blind, exposed to the world. Her guard was down; her heart was beating like drums. She had no one to protect her in her one time of weakness. She knew Synder wouldn't help her if the teenage prisoners were to attack her; they hated her. Being the warden's worker had its consequences. It was a pure miracle he helped her out earlier that day.

As they wandered the halls, she finally became accustomed to the gloom, much to her relief, but her body remained shaking. Goosebumps snaked up her arms; she'd never get used to the cold air, the stale smell of hopelessness that hung around the prisoners. She hated this place. She hoped she'd get out soon.

iIiIi

The sun was shining bright when she was finally released from her master's work the next morning. She was glad to have the light warming up her back, shining in her face, a shocking contrast to the gloom of the refuge, as she walked towards the usual meeting place for the Newsies, up at the plaza in front of the lodging house. She strolled right into the swarm of Newsies, her grin wide, catching the eye of Jack, who was getting Dave ready to head towards Brooklyn. He looked up, and beamed.

"Birds," he called, leaving Dave in abandon, and strolled towards her with open arms, before swinging her up in a hug. She blushed, looking away, before glancing up at him. She was glad she was a fast healer, her injuries were already vanishing, the worst was her eye, which was barely swollen, and a weird pinkish color. "Are you hurt?" he tucked her chin.

She adverted her gaze, before smiling up at him, "Some crazy thugs thought they could take me on," she scoffed, "They got a few good punches in, but they had no chance."

"I trust you soaked those suckers?" he looked down at her proudly, his eyes gleaming. She considered for a moment. She knew it would be horrible to lie, but any mention of Warden Snyder, and Jack would freak, so she chose the other option.

"Oh yeah, I got those suckers real good," she winked at him, before turning towards Boots who had overheard the conversation, "You ready for Brooklyn, kid?"

The kid just smirked, "I found some good shooters the other day. I think Spot'll be pleased."

"Oh, really?" she bent down so she was eye level with Boots, and looked at the three round marbles he held proudly in his hands. She squinted, before smiling, "Yeah, he'll be real pleased. Those are professional shooters you got there, Boots. You might just have found our peace offering. One gift Spot might enjoy."

She stood up to normal height, exchanging significant glances with Jack, her eyes flashing in such a way that it was almost as if she was telling him not to say a word about it, "You two ready to go?" he looked regarded the duo he would be traveling with. He didn't look quite satisfied, but more so than Birdy did.

"Yeah, if you count being scared ready," Boots retorted, looking away, a distant smirk played on his lips.

Jack turned towards Birdy once again, "Birds, you should come."

Taken aback, Birdy snapped instantly, "No, Jack. I'm not going to Brooklyn. Only you, Davey, and Boots here are going," she placed a hand on the youngest's shoulder.

"It would make me feel better if you did," he graced her with a thousand-dollar smile, "Please consider it. You'd soften him up a bit."

"I highly doubt her and her spitfire personality would soften the much feared Spot Conlon," Dave snorted as Jack tried to convince his best friend to do something impossible.

"Thank you, Dave," she cried, happy for once the talking mouth was with them.

"Yes, _thank you, Dave_," Jack shot them both heated looks, his jaws clamped shut as he spoke. They both looked away, like puppies guilty of tracking mud into the house, "Please, Birds, please, _please_ come!"

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when _Mister Jack Kelly_ begged someone, me no less, for something as small as _Spot_," she grinned, her eyes laughing merrily.

"The thing is he _isn't_ small," Jack persisted, "He's the key to an army we need if we're going to start a strike. An army we don't have—an army Spot can provide."

"My answer is still no. I don't know where you come up with these ideas—like the one you're having right now. You think I'm just going to up and go to Brooklyn with you? No. I'm not that dumb, Cowboy. Don't get me wrong, I love Spot, he's my best friend and you are too, but he doesn't play so nice when he's angry, and trust me he'll be angry. And besides it'll mess up the schedule I have. I gotta spend time in Brooklyn on his birthday, Jack. Don't mess up his birthday!" she took a deep breath, sucking in tons of air, before leaning back against the front wall of the lodging house, her arms folded, pleased with her answer.

Jack barely took in any of her words, "You're coming to Brooklyn with us, whether you want to or not."

"You'll have to carry me, then," she spat back, her eyes narrowed as she shot daggers at him.

He shrugged, "Alright, then," he stepped forward, and slung her over his should like a bag of potatoes, despite her shriek, and her wiggling around. He motioned for the two other Newsies to follow him, and they started towards the bridge.

"Let go of me, God damn it!" she pounded at his back with her fists, before trying her best to get him to release his grip on her legs, but it was as pointless as the pounding.

"I'm just following orders, milady," Jack taunted her, earning a laugh from Boots and a stern look from Dave.

"Yeah? Well follow this one! Lemme down!" she continued in her escape, only tiring herself more. She finally pried his fingers away from her, managed to slip out of his grasp, before turning and slugging him in the arm.

He stumbled back a few feet, only making his laughing more raucous, though he did hold his upper arm, as though it were broken. As soon as he took a big breath, and quit his chuckling, he looked at her, the amusement vanishing, "What was that for?"

She looked at him incredulously, before giving a low growling sound, "Your hands are like fucking ice!"

This caused Boots and Jack to laugh out loud once more, but Dave just stared at her, before shaking his head, "Think you'll manage to walk across the bridge now?" Jack flashed a smile at her.

"I suppose," she drawled reluctantly, "There's no point in turning back now that we're this far."

They turned towards the bridge, a magnificent, wonderful thing, and started their way across. Jack and Birdy, who'd walked the distance at least a thousand times, had no problem staying ahead of the other two, laughing and talking about useless things, as Boots trudged some distance behind them, only having traversed the path a few times. David, however, was practically crawling behind them, his pace sluggish. Birdy groaned, and they both stopped. She threw her head back in frustration, "Might as well pick up your pace now, Davey, we're only halfway."

Boots, however, became excited and raced toward them, jumping around on the bridge. Birdy grinned, and she and Jack laughed as they watched Dave try to reach them before they started off again, "I've never been to Brooklyn, have you?" Dave asked the trio. Birdy felt like bursting out laughing. Of course they had—at least her and Jack.

"I spent a month there one night," Boots replied, jumping up on to the bridge railing. Jack and Birdy followed suit. She looked back wistfully at Dave, who wasn't brave enough, but was watching them with curiosity. They all clung onto the edge, and leaned out as far they could, before sticking their heads down, and screaming at the top of their lungs, startling Dave, who stumbled back a few steps, and the sailors beneath them, who looked around in surprise.

Birdy stayed perched on the railing a little longer, smiling peacefully, as Jack and Boots stepped down, "So is this Spot Conlon really dangerous?"

They all laughed, and soon Birdy was wiping tears from her eyes. She placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing a serious expression on, "He can smell fear, Dave."

She walked off, pleased with the horrified expression on his face, holding back snickers as she fell in pace with Jack once again.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know, Birdy is a jerk to Dave. But she's just a troubled little fifteen-year-old. So, hope you enjoyed, and please review! It keeps me writing, and feeds my muse, Andrew, who does not enjoy being hungry. Thanks! :)**

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><p>mysteriousgirl: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. You're awesome ;) I hope this is soon enough, and don't worry... everything will be explained. :)<p>

Ealasaid Una: Everything's explained. Kloppman didn't help her, because they're cops, and he knew he didn't stand a chance against them. It was only him, Birdy, and the cops. The boys were in Queens. Thanks for reviewing.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ OR REVIEWED! YOU'RE AWESOME!

xD


	3. The King of Brooklyn

_Okay, I know I should be working on other things, but I kept coming back to this dang story. So this is light-hearted, like alot, but if everything goes as planned, the next chapter should be a little more dark. And beware, because there is some *ahem* romance in this chapter ;) Hope you enjoy, and buon divertimento!_

_I don't own anything you recognize (I do own Birdy, Glider, Swamp, Sailor, Freckles, and Barny. I hope you like Barny!)_

_Thanks! Oh, and I'll try to improve on Spot's character soon!_

_Happy Spring Break!_

_~Bandit_

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><p>Musketeer<p>

Chapter 2

The King of Brooklyn

The familiar, delicious aroma sweep through the air, the wind carrying it, and washed over the four Manhattan Newsies as they made their way down the docks. Birdy took a big whiff of the salt, her arms spread wide in delight as she walked on the creaky boards, a new spring in her step. The air of Brooklyn always made her happy; the priceless golden sunset that fell every night, lighting the legendary city with a beautiful glow, the sloshing sound of water that calmed her to sleep whenever she stayed. She loved the city, the bridge, everything about it. It'd been a year since she'd last visited and stayed, sure she passed through the city every once and a while for her master, but never long enough to welcome the pleasant familiarities, and it was refreshing to be back. Rejuvenation ran through her as the piles of crates came into view, at the edge of the waterfront. A peaceful smile crept across Birdy's face. That's where Spot would be.

"Goin' somewhere, Kelly?" a muscular Brooklyn Newsie, named Glider, pulled himself out of the water, stripped down to only his undergarments, dripping with water. He stood in front of them, blocking their path, before Jack pushed past him. As she strode by him, Birdy gave a small wave, and greeted the familiar teenager warmly, before grinning at him.

She watched him scurry off towards his other friends, Swamp, Sailor, Freckles, and Havoc, before quietly muttering, "They're here, finally." So Brooklyn _was_ expecting them. Peachy.

Jack ducked underneath a wooden bar, and Boots and Dave followed suit, trailing him like a lost dog. Birdy, however, much more accustomed to this part of the harbor, jumped over the bar, and landed in a somersault behind the trio, earning a small round of applause from the group of Brookies that had gathered behind them. She blushed, and instead directed her attention to the silhouette who sat proudly on top of the tallest stack of crates and barrels, with fishing nets draped all over, "Well, if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," the figure spoke, a heavy Brooklyn accent hanging around his voice, a sarcastic edge to his tone. Birdy held back a small smile as she stood, hiding behind Dave.

"I see you moved up in the world, Spot. Got a river view and everything," Birdy snickered in the background as Spot Conlon, her best friend, and king of the Newsies, clambered down from his 'throne'. She waited impatiently for him to arrive, shifting from foot to foot. When he finally hopped down onto the wooden boards, earning a protesting creak from the dock, he stepped forward towards Jack, and the two spit-shaked, laughing at each other, like two friends do.

Birdy stepped out from behind David, where she was perfectly concealed, and grinned at the Brookie king, "Birds," he chuckled, opening his arms wide. She automatically stepped forward into his arms, just as she'd done to Jack before, and wrapped her arms around his waist, as he enveloped her in a tight hug. She rested her head contently on his shoulder, her grin widening, "I haven't seen you in forever, love."

She pulled back from the embrace, blushing as he took one of her hands into his own, and raised it to his mouth to kiss the back of it, "Yeah, well I couldn't wait to see you, so I had to come with Jacky-boy here," she easily lied, and she knew Spot could tell she was lying too. He just laughed, and let her arm fall back to her side. She could tell David was gaping behind her.

Spot tucked his black, gold-tipped cane back into his belt buckle, and turned towards Boots, fondness growing in his eyes at the small kid, "Heya, Boots. How's it rollin'?"

Boots stepped forward towards the much-feared Newsies, holding out his hand, which had the stones in it, and shuffled them around for Spot to see, "I got a couple of real good shooters here."

Spot sent him an, 'Is that so?' look, before grabbing them from the kid's hands. He pulled out his slingshot, which was worn, and half-soaked from all the time Spot spent near the water. He set the marbles in the release band, and leaning back some, aiming at a glass bottle, as he always did, "Yeah. So, Jacky-boy, I've been hearing things from little birds," Dave ducked out of the way as Spot readied himself even more. As if Spot would miss, "Things from Harlem, Queens," he finally released, launching the stone from his slingshot, and hitting the bottle dead on, causing it to shatter into a million pieces. Birdy couldn't help but admire his technique, "all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're goin' on strike."

"Yeah, well we are," Jack met Spot's gaze dead on, a treacherous thing, even if you knew him well. Boots shrunk back, unaware of what Spot would do, as did some of the eavesdropping Brookies.

"We're not playing," Dave spoke up, causing Spot to snap his head towards him, his eyes icy with a cold Brooklyn fire. Birdy silently pleaded him to shut his trap. Who knew what kind of trouble he'd get them into? "We _are_ going on strike."

"Oh yeah? Yeah?" Spot stepped menacingly towards Dave with such ferocity, Birdy flinched away, even though she was good ten feet away from the two of them. "What's this, Jacky-boy? Some kind of walking mouth?" Birdy was glad Spot understood she wasn't a newsie, and therefore left her out of this argument. She was just there to see him, her Irish friend.

Jack stared calmly into Spot's fuming face, "Yeah, it's a mouth. A mouth with a brain, and if you got half of one, you'll listen to what he's got to say," the elder newsie spoke smoothly. Birdy prayed to every god she could think of that Jacky's words didn't send Spot over the edge, and instead soothed him a bit.

Dave took the cue easily, and thought for a second, before starting with Spot again, "Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So we're talking to all around the city."

Birdy smiled back at Glider, who winked at her, and she beamed in relief that Spot had quieted down some, "Yeah, so they told me. But what did they tell you?" he cocked his head at Davey, his eyes mellowing down some.

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, that you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they join and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean... well, you gotta!" it was almost as if David had known Spot as long as the others had. Jack and Birdy exchanged incredulous looks, gaping at each other. Davey sure knew how to get to Spot.

Spot leaned back, somewhat pleased, before adverting his gaze in thought, "You're right, Jacky-boy, brains. But I got brains too, and more than just half of one. How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at you with a club?" he finished harshly, his voice regaining the normal bitter edge, "How do I know you got what it takes to win?"

Jack pulled his cowboy hat lower over his eyes, biting his lip in thought, "Because I'm telling ya, Spot," his voice remained smooth.

"That ain't good enough, Jacky-boy. You gotta show me," Spot replied, making it evident he was done with the conversation. Jack racked his brain for any ideas of showing Spot, before spit shaking with the king again, and turning to head back towards Manhattan, signaling that the others who'd come with him should follow. Birdy cast Spot a wan look, before stepping toward Jack, when Spot stopped them all. "Birdy comes with me."

Jack shook his head, "Not this time, Spot, we need her."

Spot took in a deep breath, "You do want me to join the strike, don't you?" he squinted his eyes, a cold feeling coming over him. Way to blackmail them, Birdy silently congratulated her friend, moving slightly closer to him.

Jack shot him a confused look, "I don't know what you mean-."

"Oh don't pretend like I don't know why you brought her with you. You want her to charm me into joining the strike," Birdy knew it was Jack's plan from the beginning, but tried her best to act surprised, "And that would work a whole lot better if she was with me."

Cowboy finally shrugged, holding up his hands in surrender, "Fine, she's yours."

Birdy wasn't sure whether to be upset or pleased with the outcome. As much as she wanted to spend time with Spot, she really did love that kid, it was very dangerous to be around him when he was under as much stress as he was now. She suspected a few games of poker would help him ease up while she was around anyways. She watched her friends make their way back towards the bridge, with a small, wistful smile on her face.

"Why can't you just trust them, Spot?" her words literally dripped with exasperation.

"They're Hatties, it's only natural for me to feel this way about their fighting skills," he gave a small sigh.

"Your best friend just so happens to be a Hattie. Race is a Hattie, and don't forget, Swamp was originally a Hattie," she cast him a sideways glance, "We're both Hatties. Does that make any difference in our fighting skills? You're one of the toughest kids I know, Spot."

He flushed, adverting his eyes, "I was raised in Brooklyn, I'll always be a Brooklyn newsie, at heart, at least. And besides, you don't count. You were raised all over New York. You're like a… Yorkie. You don't really go into a certain city."

"Only because I'm technically a bird, and because of the work I'm forced to do," she shrugged, before grinning up at Spot, who was only a few inches taller than her. She glanced over him with a large, sweeping glance, taking in everything from his bare feet—he never wore shoes when he was in Brooklyn, because he was always around the docks, to his usual red suspenders and necklace with a key looped into it, to his smirk and bright, blue eyes.

He slowly clasped her hand into his own, and lead her through the group of Brookies, which parted for their king, and towards the nearest edge of the water, where he looked down into the murky river, "It'd be a wonderful day for a swim, wouldn't it?"

Birdy nodded her agreement, trying to figure out what he was thinking of, before plucking his newsie cap off of his head, allowing his sandy blonde hair to fall into it's natural place, and smiling at him, "It's always a wonderful day for a swim in _Brooklyn_."

He looked back at her, his eyes dancing with pride of his best friend. He turned his head away, and continued to study the water. She knew he was reluctant to swim, but she never figured out why. She knew he could swim, what Brookie couldn't? So she crept forward, slowly, coming up from behind, and shoved him gently in the back, so he lost his balance, and toppled into the water. A stream of curses burst from his mouth, specifically about her, as he fell towards the dark water, before he pulled himself into a hasty diving form, and plummeted into the water. She lingered for a moment, kneeling by the edge, curiosity overcoming her as she waited for the king to resurface. She waited, but he never did. She slowly became worried, and her heart began to thump loudly, her eyes widened, "I've killed Spot Conlon. I've killed the King of the Newsies! My first day back and I've committed the worst crime there is!"

As she ended her terrified statement, however, something burst out of the water, quick as lightening, and pulled her into the river herself. She surfaced as swift she could, her eyes squeezed tight, sputtering and spewing out such horrible words it would've given Sailor a run for his money. When she finally caught her breath, wading in the water, she opened her eyes, the sound of laughter reaching her ears, as she was met with the face of Spot Conlon. He was cracking himself up, a few feet away, struggling to keep his head above the water he continued to laugh. She spluttered for a moment more, before racing through the water towards him, and kicking him underneath the surface. Though the kick came slow, he wasn't expecting it, and his expression of amusement contorted into one of fleeting pain. As soon as her anger was over, however, they were both laughing hard, grinning at each other like fools. She could hear the other newsies, the ones who dared getting near Spot Conlon when he showed any other kind of emotion than anger, laughing in the distance as well. For a second, Birdy was scared Spot would lash out at them, but he loved his boys more than she'd reckoned, so they both kept laughing, and flailing about in the water.

As soon as they both calmed down, Birdy pulled out his cap, which she'd clung onto the whole time, and placed it on his head, sending a whole new wave of water down over his face. He quickly closed his mouth and eyes, blindly reaching his hands up, and positioning the hat just right. When he finally opened his eyes, they were gentle and calm as he smiled at her, his voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, Birds."

She shrugged, "Whatever pleases my king, Spot."

She spotted Glider and Sailor in the distance, snickering like children as they watched the whole scene unfold. She rolled her eyes at them, before kicking off, and shooting through the water towards them, "Oi, Glider, a little help here?" she called, before watching him bend down on the dock, and reach his hand down. She took it, her palm diminutive compared to his large, Brooklyn one. He easily pulled her out of the water, clapping her back, and signaling that Sailor should get Spot. Though Spot was obviously reluctant at getting help, he allowed to bigger, much stronger newsie to pull him out of the water, and onto the docks. She and Spot exchanged loopy grins, better he groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"Please, Spot, please?" she begged as soon as he realized her plans.

"I suppose you want to see Barny now, huh?" he sighed, rolling his eyes again.

"Please… I haven't seen her in ages. Not even the last time I stayed, because she was in Harlem, remember?" she continued to plead him, "Spot, just one time. I know she wants to talk to me. And she'll give you hell after I'm gone if you don't take me to see her."

The Brooklyn King took in her insistent words, processed them in his mind, before scowling, "Fine, you can see her."

"Thank you so much, Spot!" she scurried after him as he started through the streets of Brooklyn, soaking wet.

"But I just want you to know," he stopped, and turned towards her, a smirk on his face, "There was no use for your begging. We were going to see her anyway."

This earned a growl, and soft punch from Birdy. She stared at him in disbelief, before joining his laughs once more.

iIiIi

The lodging house was loud and bustling as the newsies ended their selling, but that's how it usually was. A small girl sat on a creaky wooden chair, the shadows spilling over her like a waterfall, so only her bare feet were visible. And despite the darkness covering her, she seemed to be able to comprehend the book she had her face buried in. Living with the Brooklyn newsies meant she could predict everything. She liked to believe that nothing could surprise her. But as the door plunged open, two silhouettes in the doorway, pouring sunlight throughout the main room, she couldn't help herself as she jumped. The door slammed shut, and the two, with their hands interlocked, bent over, in what she soon realized was heavy laughter.

She stood abruptly from her chair, leaving her Shakespearean book behind, to reveal herself. She approached her king, Spot Conlon, with a smirk plastered on her face, and Birdy, the closest thing she had to a sister, "My dear king, I see you've returned to your 'castle."

Her hang hung in two long, plaited braids, but her bangs, as dark as her hair, hung over her shining eyes and pale complexion, "And I've brought a queen with me, dear Princess Barny."

"So glad you have," Barny grinned at Birdy, who quickly stepped forward, unhappily wrenching her hand from Spot's and gave the younger a swift hug.

"I'm staying for more than one day this time," Birdy quickly explained as Barny turned, her arms crossed, her lips puffed out in a teasing pout. Her pouting quickly ceased as soon as Birdy finished her sentence, and she spun around as quick as lightening and flung her arms around a surprised Spot, kissing his cheek multiple times.

"And you're all wet," Barny pulled away, a reproachful look on her face, "Why are you both… dripping?"

"We took an unexpected swim," Spot scowled, turning away slightly, obviously not pleased.

"I pushed him into the river," Birdy confessed, shrugging, "I just wanted to see his reaction.

"Thank God for other girls!" she cried, before turning towards Birdy again, a new light in her eye. "I thought I was the only one who could pull off doing that!"

"Missed me that much, huh?" Birdy smirked, her hands on her hips.

Barny nodded vigorously. Though she was only a couple of months younger than Birdy, she was the most childish of the two, "I'll go set up my room!"

"Good, because we have business to attend to," Spot grinned at them both, taking Birdy's hand again, and gently leading her towards the bunkroom, and up the creaky steps, walking backwards so he held her gaze the whole time. Though Spot seemed intimidating, it was not like the young king to go all serious so quickly. Birdy couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.

They entered the bunkroom, which was empty because of the poker game that had just started. Brookies were die-hard poker players, which was probably why they either hated or loved Racetrack, and none would resist a game, save for Barny, who'd had enough with gambling after spending a week with Race. But, even if it was complete deserted, Spot obviously wanted more privacy, and led her out the window to the fire escape. They both climbed the familiar rusting metal, and emerged onto the roof. It had grown windy since Birdy had arrived, but the warm, salty Brooklyn air lingered. Spot sat on the edge, as he always did, pulling Birdy gently towards him. She settled into his lap, resting the back of her head against his shoulder, watching the Brooklyn Bridge. The sun was getting close to set, and she breathed in a sigh of relief, as she relaxed against the king; her best friend.

"I'm glad you're back, Birds," he muttered, reaching out his hand, and placing it soothingly under her chin. He slowly drew her face towards him, so their noses were almost touched. He met her eyes, and grinned, before leaning forward slightly, and giving her a soft kiss on her lips. Birdy closed her eyes briefly, before he pulled away. It was not the first time the two had embraced each other in this way, and frankly she rather liked it.

"I'm glad I'm back too. And about before," she placed a comforting hand on the side of his face, pulling him close again, and kissing him back. "I think I really am a Brookie at heart."

iIiIi

Several hours later found Spot sneaking into Barny's room, a sleeping Birdy in his arms. He noticed Barny dozing off in the corner, a book in one hand, the other propped against her knee, supporting her head. He smiled fondly at the younger, and gently set Birdy on Barny's spare bed, being careful not to wake either of the girls. He was actually quite affectionate of both of them, each earning a small place in his heart, and he was almost reluctant to admit, even to himself, that he was soft around both. He reached down, brushed the dark bangs from Birdy's forehead, and kissed her on the cheek. He turned to go towards the door, when something stopped him.

"I see you've taken all the fun away from me," Barny stood, newly woken, and walked slowly towards her leader. She cast a wistful look at Birdy, "As usual."

"Sorry, Barny. I swear I'll let you have her tomorrow night," he smirked at her, reaching for the door.

Barny quickly sidestepped, twisting around so she was blocking his path. "What were you two doing on the fire escape?" She raised two fingers to her lips, in a pathetic attempt to cover her smirk.

Spot stared at her in shock, "How'd you know we were out there?"

She gave a small laugh, "I know you too well, Mister High and Mighty," he raised an eyebrow at her. She saved him the trouble of trying to guess, "You just told me."

The look on Spot's face was worth whatever Barny was going to get as punishment. Barny smiled to herself, moved out of the way, and opened the door for him. She reached up on her tiptoes, and pecked his cheek, before giving him a placid shove towards the doorway. "Now go back to being the ferocious leader of the most feeared newsies ever, you big softy," she smirked as he closed the door softly behind him, giving Barny a dirty look. The younger, pig-tailed girl turned, leaning against the closed door, folding her arms, and looking down upon her sleeping friend. She gave a sigh, sliding down the edge of the door, letting herself be succumbed into slumber once more.

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you enjoyed it! If you liked Barny's character, please share, and if you absolutely hated her... please share. Tell me your opinion and what you want from this story! Thank you! And please review. Thanks!**

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><p>Cowboy's Goil: Well, since you're the only one who reviewed, this chapter (and story, basically) is dedicated to you :) Thank you so much! And I'm glad you like Birdy. Thanks, and enjoy!<p>

Thanks to anyone who read or reviewed! You're the best!

xD


	4. Trepidation of the Night: Part I

_So, yeah, I just realized it's been a little over a month since I've updated (whoops, sorry...) and really kicked this into gear. This story was really, and I mean REALLY, hard for me to write. I had a little trouble writing the emotions in this one. Since I wanted to get this one updated a little sooner, I cut it in half, and the next one should be a little shorter than usual, but will be updated a LOT sooner. So, hope you enjoy! Buon divertimento! :)_

_Disclaimer: Sorry, but I don't own anything you recognize... (I do own Birdy, Barny, Havoc, Alpha, Digger, etc...)_

_I tried my best to make Spot on character... I'm not that good at that part, so if he's a little off, please excuse it. I'm still a fanfictioner/fansie in training!_

_Also, please check out my profile to find the link to the fanfiction trailer I made for this one... Yeah, that does mean I was working on that while I was supposed to be working on this *blushes* It only took me three hours, honest!_

_~Bandit_

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><p>Musketeer<p>

Chapter 3

Trepidation of the Night

Part 1

Her eyes were skimming over the glossy, glass-like liquid, watching the waves spill over the edge of the harbored shore, as clouds twisted overhead, forming into a thick, puffy blanket that stretched over the usually blue sky, the water reflecting the storm perfectly. She could hear the dock workers, who strolled around the banks, barking orders at each other, shouting out instructions. They seemed so far away from where she was. She was so high up; it was making her dizzy, her head swam at the height, and her eyes watered. She pulled her shirt, a frayed, striped, threadbare fabric that she always wore when she was in the usually balmy city, tighter around herself as she leaned against the railing of the familiar bridge. Moments before she'd been basking in the sun, enjoying the clear skies, and now, the clouds thickened, threatening to rain. But still, chills snaked up her arms and spine, her teeth chattering as the air took a sharp turn from the usual warmth. She'd been here a day, and she was already suffering from the cold.

"It's as elusive as the smoke in the wind, ain't it?" Birdy silently jumped, clinging onto the railing to keep herself from tumbling over the edge and into the wild current. She heard the slam of something against the barrier, and looked over to see a stack of newspapers next to her, as Spot easily slipped next to her, placing an arm over her shoulder.

"What is?" she breathed, returning her penetrating gaze towards the view ahead of the two teenagers.

"The warm weather. It comes and goes as it wants. It never stays for long," he leaned forward on the rail, turning his head, so he was looking straight into her eyes.

Somehow, Birdy didn't think he was referring to just the weather, "Yeah, I guess everything's that way, huh?"

He gave a small, lilting chuckle, before smiling. She knew he was glad none of his newsies were around. Though she was sure he loved them all to death, they were his boys, but he didn't have to act so tough, so strong around her. She was glad she provided him some relief.

"I guess I'm done with selling today. Really wore me out. All those uppity girls surrounded me today, demanding papers. Keeping them off was kinda hard. But," he shot her a sneaky smile, "I'd much rather have you around."

She laughed, "I love it when you act so sweet around me."

"You know," he gave a sudden intake of breath, before turning, so he was leaning his back against the rail, but still looking at her, "You'd make a good Kathryn. You look like a Kathryn, you know. Or Diane."

She gave a short, exasperated laugh, before raising her eye brows at her friends as she looked back at the relaxed newsie, "You think so?" she pursed her lips, before grinning, "Why are you changing the subject, _Mister_ Spot?"

He shrugged, "I was just thinking. Ain't I allowed to do that?" suddenly his voice had a harsher tone to it.

"Being a newsie," she chuckled lightly, "uh- no, you're not. I actually think it's more forbidden."

"Are you accusing me of not being able to think?" She deflected his hard gaze, and grinned up to him, gently taking his hand. She knew he would be able to resist, so, even though he scrunched up his nose in anger, she leaned toward him. He tried to pull away, but she promptly placed a kiss on his cheek.

"I know you think, Spot. You have brains, dontcha?" he gave a small smile of recognition from his argument with David the day before. She squeezed his hand, "I'm sorry for implying things, Spotty boy."

"Stop going all mushy on me," he turned, his eyes hard once again.

"I was just about to same the same thing about you," she grinned, her eyes sparkling.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling yell sounded through Brooklyn. Spot turned at once, one hand on his cane, the other on Birdy's arm, as if he expected to protect her from whatever was happening. Something, coming from the direction of Manhattan, raced past them, a blur of colors. Birdy flinched away, closer towards the bridge, when the thing stopped, feet away from them. Spot stuck out his cane at the thing, which was crouched over, hands on knees, panting hard, only to realize it was Cowboy.

They both stared.

"I think," Jack paused to take a deep breath. He must've ran all the way from Manhattan without stopping, "I think you'd make a good Kathryn, Birds. You don't look like a Diane."

This sent Birdy into a fit of laughter, while Spot's face reminded stony. Birdy placed a hand on her heart, biting back a grin. "Jacky, you know you're not allowed in Brooklyn. Not when I haven't decided about the strike, now leave, I can have the newsies thinking you're influencing me."

Birdy whistled slowly, "Influencing," she paused and pulled a face, "That's a mighty big word there, Spot. You sure you didn't sneak off to school for a day or two?"

This earned her a death glare, but she quickly looked away, before refocusing her gaze on Cowboy, her eyes demanding answers. "The-the Delancey Brudders," by now he was trembling with exhaustion, "They're after me something strong, and I was… wonderin'… if I…could bunk here."

His gasps for breaths quickly turned into coughs and wheezes, his face turning red. Birdy watched her friend warily. He was swaying slightly, and at that moment, she remembered the distance from Manhattan to Brooklyn. He'd run over three miles. She lunged forward as his legs gave out underneath him, and caught him tightly by the arm before he hit the bridge.

"Yeah, you can stay in the lodging house," Spot reluctantly agreed, "You can take the extra bed and rest for a while. But you have to go back to 'Hattan tonight."

With the king's help, they managed to get the completely exhausted Jack across Brooklyn, and into the front doors of the lodging house. Even though he rarely got enough to eat, Jack was heavier than Birdy ever remembered, and she scowled as she felt her arms growing heavy. But, a puff of smoke hit her nose, and as she gagged, Birdy looked over to the corner, where a burly Brooklyn newsie, called Havoc, rested, leaning against the wall, taking long drags on a rather expensive-looking cigar. Where had he gotten that? He was watching them with a dark eyebrow raised, and his lips pulled into sort of a half-smirk around the cigar. Although he was often smoking, even more than Racetrack, if that was possible, and his health slowly fading away, Havoc was the strongest newsie in Brooklyn, maybe even New York.

Birdy let out a sigh of relief, but it quickly turned into a sharp gasp of shock. Jack had completely passed out. She silently begged Havoc to come over, letting her big eyes water up, and her mouth pull into a pout. Being a man of few words, he merely nodded his towhead, threw the cigar to the ground, making sure it was put out so the lodging house didn't catch fire, and sauntered over to them.

"Sure, take your time, we're not in any kind of hurry," Spot piped up, his voice cold, like a gust of merciless wind, and his eyes like two icy daggers as he glared at the slowly approaching newsie. The king's actions made Birdy roll her eyes in exasperation; that kid had the patience of a pea, but even she had to admit her arms were burning from the effort.

Havoc simply let out a raspy cough.

As soon as he arrived, he slowly took the fainted Jack from her arms, and Birdy collapsed against the wall, a moan of content echoing from her lips as the burden was lifted. She stretched her arms joyously, grinning at the look Spot was giving her, a mixture of envy and irritation of her freedom. He and Havoc carried Cowboy like he was a dead man, Havoc's arms underneath his armpits, and Spot's wrapped around his ankles. Though by Jack's loud snoring, his mouth open so wide he could catch flies, it was evident the Hattie was only sleeping now.

The two, plus Jack, made their way up the stairs to the bunks, where Jack would be resting for the time being. Birdy watched as they struggled, the wooden steps creaking and groaning in protest to the amount of weight. She waited a few seconds after they were out of sight, letting her muscles relax a little while longer. Soon, though, she unlatched herself from the wall, before tearing up the steps, taking two at a time, and through the doorway, folding her arms, and leaning against the bunk the two Brookies were settling Jack onto, acting as though she hadn't just raced upstairs at breakneck speed.

"I want him on his side," they both turned towards her, silently asking her why she had the nerve to boss them around. She shrugged, "I'm not saying Cowboy's out of shape or anything, but if he were to throw up, he'd choke on the vomit on his back. I want him on his side," they both pulled faces, "Hey, you asked."

They reluctantly agreed to follow her orders, making sure they set up the sleeping newsie exactly how the small girl wanted. Once she was satisfied that they'd done everything her way correctly and perfectly, she stopped giving commands, her voice faltering, her eyes upon the king. Spot had frozen in his place, his body tensing up as goosebumps snaked up his arms. His sandy blonde hair had fallen out of his cap and all over his face from the burden, and his cold, calculating gaze was pinned on Cowboy. Though he'd be too naïve to admit it, Birdy could see concern running through the troubled newsie. She hesitated a moment, biting her lip, afraid of what Spot might do if she acted. True, he was her best friend, and they were "madly in love", and he'd once called her the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on, but it wouldn't be the first he could land a punch on her. Ignoring the consequences, Birdy stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with him, lacing her shaking hand- she never knew she was that scared of him- into his own, rather chilled one, drawing her thumb across his knuckles. He didn't even show any signs of recognition that she was there.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Havoc slipping out of the doorway. The functional mute had been around her and Spot long enough to know that either things were going to get really tense really fast, or that something incredibly mushy was going to happen, most likely ending in a make-out session between the two. Birdy personally hoped the latter would be the case.

"He'll be fine, you know," he turned towards her, his icy eyes glazed over, his expression tinged with uneasiness. It was an odd look for the usually fearless, reckless leader. "He's only sleeping now."

He looked back down at his 'sleeping' friend, "I ain't ever seen anything like that. He was just… tired?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand hard. Admiration filled her. Sometimes she just forgot that Spot could be a, well, normal, kid just like the rest of the newsies. Sometimes he could be like this, when she really connected with him.

"He'll be up and around, his usual perkiness returning to him. Don't worry," she met his eyes, which were asking her, 'Really?' God, she hated to see her friend like this. "Please don't worry," she muttered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. She unlatched her hand from his, and bent down next to Jack. She placed her hand on his forehead, which was slightly warm, before moving it over a little bit, and running her hand gently through his hair. Spot stiffened at the gesture, but allowed her to caress his friend. Birdy kissed his cheek, gave Spot a meaningful look, full of warmth and pride, before standing, stretching, and walking slowly out of the room, allowing Spot to have time to think.

iIiIi

True to her word, a few hours came and went, and Birdy and Spot found themselves reclining in chairs facing opposite each other, while Jack went around, talking to all the Brookies about his perilous fight with the Delanceys. Having heard it a bunch of times, the two were quite sick of the Manhattan newsie. They were all gathered around a table, set to play poker, but the sun had nearly set, and half of the newsies weren't back yet, so they'd held off the game. Birdy couldn't help the sigh as she watched a shadow fall across Brooklyn. She hoped they'd be back soon- Barny was one of the ones out there, being a bird, she was stuck in Harlem, and was hopefully sprinting her way back. She didn't want anything bad to happen to the only-slightly-younger newsie.

Spot stood abruptly, sending a hush across the table as they all whipped their heads towards him. These newsies were well trained. But he just shook his head, so they all resumed their conversations, and gestured towards her. A million thoughts raced through her head as she stepped towards Spot, a lump in her throat, her eyes squinted. Had she done something wrong? Was it about Jack? Or Barny? She continued steadily, nonetheless, holding his gaze, keeping her head high, and flashing him a big grin. She couldn't let him know she was hesitant. Fear would get her nowhere now.

As soon as she reached him, he spoke, linking his arm into hers, "We need to talk," his voice was still stern, but it had a softer edge to it now. Birdy could feel some of her fear vanishing.

She nodded, and they headed out the door, before Spot unlinked his arm from hers, and instead took her hand. "You don't want Jack to know, do you?" she looked down, at their hands, noticing that he'd made sure they were out of range of the lodging house before performing the motion.

"He's got his eye on you too," Spot sighed, and they continued to walk towards the pier, "I just don't want him to try and get you."

"That would work better if he actually knew what was going on between us," she looked up at the moon, choosing her words carefully, "It would work better if you announced that I was 'your girl'."

"It is announced," he insisted, regarding her gently. She refused to meet his gaze. It was her turn to be cold and cruel.

"In Brooklyn," she muttered.

"Look, I just don't want to start a war between Brooklyn and Manhattan. It would send Jack over the edge, and if we break out fighting, we both know who's going to end up on top," he gave a heavy sigh, "I like the alliance we have with Manhattan at the moment. I don't want it to break."

"And you think that's not gonna happen when he figures it out, and we're not the ones who told him?" she hissed, her eyes flashing in alarm.

"The boys know not to tell him," Spot reassured her, "There's no way it could get out."

Birdy scrutinized him, "This just… this just isn't a good plan, Spot. I don't think it's going to work."

"Birdy," he turned, pulling his hand out of hers, and raised his arms out wide, a pompous smirk upon his face, "When have I ever been wrong?"

She couldn't help but chuckle, "Well…"

"Don't answer that," he quickly stopped her, taking her hand again, and leading her along the side of the river. "That wasn't what I wanted to talk about in the first place."

Great, Birdy thought, now it's time to get serious. A cold, shuddery feeling ran through her, like wind. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She prayed it wasn't Barny, or Freckles, or Sailor, or any of the others. "What'd you want to talk about?"

They wandered nearer to the streets, where all the buildings were. Birdy wanted to protest, she liked the calm and cool of the river, but she didn't want to get Spot annoyed right before he talked to her. He hesitated, looking at his feet, but still navigating his city. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, wondering how to say what ever he was going to say.

At last, he seemed ready to speak, "It's just-."

Whatever he wanted to say, he couldn't, because at that moment, three figures lurched out of the darkness, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and snagged them both. Birdy gave a small call in surprise, but Spot seemed less in shock. He was glaring at the unidentifiable figures, as if he knew them. Birdy gulped, fear paralyzing her body as panic took over her.

She could feel her captor's calloused hands tightening their death grip on her arms. If she thought she was scared earlier, it was nothing compared to now. She shifted her gaze from the floor, to Spot, who she could barely see through the thick shadows of the alley they'd pulled them both into. The moonlight barely glinted off the many rings on his right hand. Despite the two burly goons holding the king back, he'd managed to barely wriggle around. They'd forgotten to strip the Brooklyn newsie of his weapons. His hand now rested on the cane. While she'd been flailing about, and screaming like a little pansy, he'd been forming a plan, silently, yet quickly. Now she just had to figure out what the three attackers wanted. At that point, she could maybe get inside their heads. Suddenly, Spot snapped up his gaze from his cane, though his hand still rested firmly on it, to meet her eyes. His stare was captivating, yet steely and harsh, almost like a… realization dawned on her. She twisted her wrists, which were held behind her back, in an uncomfortable fashion that made her hands burn, but she had a firm grip on the small knife she always kept hidden in a secret pocket on the back of her pants.

The moments between were completely silent, as Birdy waited for Spot to lead the attack with baited breath. For Birdy, silence had never been so loud. But not even a second later, Spot wrenched around in his two attackers' grasp, and took a quick swing with the black, gold-capped cane, hitting on of the assailants over the head. Birdy took that as the signal to attack, and quickly jumped away, blocking the enemy's blows to her head, and for once in her life, she wasn't focused on Spot. She could hear him struggling with the other two men behind her, but she was more concerned with the person she was fighting. And apparently that man had a knife as well. She dodged the sharp, glimmering edges that were being thrust at her, blocking them with her own dagger. Confusion filled her head as she attacked, not even focusing on what she was doing. Why were these two trying to them? And _who were_ they? Where were _'they'_ from?

Next thing Birdy knew, she'd knocked the mugger to the ground, kicking him in the head, before one of the attacker's on Spot's side noticed her, and pinned her, forcing her to back up. However, the other attacker was doing that to Spot as well, and soon, they had run into each other, but instead of crying out in shock, they stayed together, back to back. Finally, Birdy looked back at the king, meeting his eyes with a worried glance.

And suddenly, he popped off the golden tip of his cane, and unsheathed a sword, which was hidden in the core, before turning, and swinging around, narrowly missing Birdy, so that she screamed, and instead sliced the guy who was sneaking up on her while she was distracted, in the stomach. He did all this in a manner of seconds, and soon, there was only one attacker left. They'd managed to survive.

Maybe she'd spoken too soon.

Next thing Birdy knew, the attacker still on his feet had knocked the sword out of Spot's hands, and had grabbed him by the back of his collar, slamming him into the wall. Birdy resisted a scream as blood ran down his head, and instead charged forward, dagger still in hand. But something tugged at her leg, and she yelped, falling the ground, but she managed to pull herself into a somersault before the guy who'd been stabbed could get an advantage on her. She made to rise up from her crouching position, but as it turned out, the guy already had an advantage. Next thing she knew, her arms were behind her back, and she was being held to watch helplessly once more, exactly like when the attack'd first started, except for she had a whole lot more bruises, and she wasn't facing the king. She gulped with difficulty, and felt her eyes prick with water, except for they weren't tears of despair, they were tears of rage. She was going to get these two if they did anything worse to her king.

iIiIi

Being not only physically exhausted, but mentally exhausted as well, Barny dragged her feet along Brooklyn's street as she made her sluggish way to the lodging house. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and glanced up at the moon. It was full tonight, and therefore she didn't need the streetlights to guide her, although they were all broken. She loved traveling at night, most times, despite the possibility of being jumped and seriously injured. She shivered, but shrugged it off. She was a Brooklynite, after all. As she neared the pier, she thought she heard shuffling in the nearest alleyway, and she froze. Her breathing became more rapid… what would become of her? What if someone attacked her? She'd be an easy target, after all, being so small for her age. Her mind raced, but no one came. She had never hated the shadows that covered the alleyways more. She snuck off towards the neighboring building, which luckily had a fire escape, and quickly began to scamper up it.

Halfway through her climb, however, she heard a bloodcurdling scream, and for a second, she froze. That sounded like… Birdy. And suddenly, a new energy swept over her, and she was sprinting up the fire escape, and onto the roof, crouching on top of it, and looking down into the alley, which she could see perfectly. Although, the sight wasn't pretty. Her best friend was pressed against the wall, her hands held tightly behind her back, her face contorted into one of pain as tears streamed down her bloody cheeks, although the pain wasn't physical. The captor had positioned himself very carefully, so from all angles his face was covered by the shadows. Barny cursed him for it, before realization dawned on her. Birdy _and_ her captor were looking at something. Something below her. She knelt down on the rooftop, and carefully peered over, making sure no one saw her. But she saw someone. And not just any someone.

It took all she had not to cry out when she saw Spot. He was slumped against the wall, his vanquisher the only thing holding him up. Blood dripped down his face, but he'd made sure to close his eyes and mouth, yet he was breathing heavily. She had to do something. Searching frantically around the rooftop, still wary of making any noise, Barny searched for anything useful. And then she spotted a rock. It wasn't much, actually quite small, but it had a sharp edge. And it would go faster. They wouldn't know what was coming. So she knelt to pick it up, examining it more, before scurrying back over to her spot, where she could see everything perfectly. She was torn, however. She knew she could throw the rock at either of the muggers—at least she hoped they were muggers—and hit them dead on, most probably causing them to release on their hold, but she couldn't decide which. Spot was definitely in the most trouble at the moment, but Birdy looked angry, and Birdy was mean when she was angry. She'd probably do a lot in the few seconds she'd have. She sat back on her heels, considering it for a second longer, and besides, Spot looked in no shape to start randomly attacking. But she wanted so desperately to help her leader, probably more than she wanted to help Birdy.

But she needed to decide. And so she did.

Crouching against the rooftop with labored breath, Barny leaned back with the rock in her hand, and squinted her eyes to aim. She couldn't miss, she told herself. Bad things would happen if she missed. She forced herself to calm down; she'd be of no use to the both of them if she had a mental breakdown. She could do this. The small girl made herself remember all the times she'd thrown and hit the target before. _This is no different, Bela-girl, except for now your friends' lives are on the line. But don't think about that._

And suddenly, before she knew it, the rock was flying through the night air, cutting through the wind like a knife. It hurtled past Birdy, and hit her attacker right on the head. Barny could've screamed out in joy, but she didn't. She hit the top of the roof, making sure the attacker's didn't see her. But she quickly peeked up, and saw Birdy break loose of the man's grip with so much ferocity you'd think her best friend was dying. _Oh yeah. He was._ She dashed forward, and blindly swung at the man, hitting him a couple of times.

Barny grinned in joy, and crawled over to the ladder before racing down the steps, and into open air. She raced down the stone paths. She wanted nothing more than to help them straight on, but her physical features weren't the best, she was actually pretty small for her age, and she decided it would be best to stay out of the actual fight this time. She broke out into a sprint, her mind going numb with the excitement of it all. It was dreadful, and horrible, and she was especially enraged she couldn't help. But she'd done her best.

With her hair, which had fallen out of the twin braids long ago, streaming behind her, she raced back the way she came, determined to find someone, as this was one of the only ways back to the lodging house. She would search forever until she found someone to help, unfortunately, Birdy and Spot didn't have forever. And then she saw him. There was no mistaking his familiar gait, the way he watched every corner, expectant of being jumped. It was her brother.

"Freckles!" she cried, surprised at how desperate her voice was. It was frail, and shaky, and desperate. It was never like that. "Freckles!"

She sprinted towards him, "Barny? Barns?" he stepped towards her, lifting her chin, as she panted, "Is anything wrong? Did someone hurt you?"

"No, I'm not hurt," she had never been more impatient with her life, "Freckles, it's Spot. We've got to help him. Come on!"

iIiIi

As soon as Birdy saw the rock flying through the air, she knew it was Barny, and she knew what was going to happen. This would be her one chance to save her friend, and it would be her only chance. She needed to use it wisely. She winced slightly as the rock hurtled inches past her ear, and instead smacked her captor's forehead. Once his grip loosened, ever so slightly, she broke free, using a strength she didn't know she had. She sprinted forward, blindly swinging punches as the man who was attempting to torture Spot. He caught one of her fists, but she brought up her leg to kick him instead. He doubled over, slowly backing away from Spot, and instead she turned towards the other man coming up on her. She felt rage enter her, and she punched him square on the nose as well, before sucking out of the way, and kicking him in the back, sending him tumbling into the other. She then ran towards Spot, who was somehow managing to keep himself up right, even though the blood blinded him. She reached towards him; they had to get out of there.

But before she could even step towards him, the captor who had been attacking him, darted forward from the ground at the speed of light, and had his hands around Spot's neck. Birdy cried out in fear, and stopped in her tracks, letting the other thug grab her once more. She hung her head, forcing back tears. The man pushed Spot up against the wall, while Spot looked calmly up at him, the blood finally stopping flowing. Though his eyes were calm, he showed no signs of panic, unlike her. She was scared. The man was strangling him, the king of Brooklyn.

"What does Alpha want?" Spot managed to say, despite the meaty hands enclosing his neck. Birdy gave a small gasp of recognition—Alpha… the leader of Queens. So these 'newsies' were from Queens? Alpha was behind all this? What did he want? She looked back towards Spot, and gave a slight cry of despair. His eyes were watering, and something passed over his face, like nothing she'd ever seen. It was vulnerability, desperation. He was scared. Rage swept through her, she felt as though she could kill someone, slaughtering them without a care for hurting her Spot. And she nearly did—she almost broke out of the man's grip once again, but he whipped out a knife, and pressed it against her throat, yanking her backwards again, straight into him.

"We ain't tellin' you," the one trying to strangle Spot said, his voice hoarse, but with a darker edge to it. It sent shivers snaking down Birdy's spine. She kept her gaze firmly on Spot, despite the fear racing through her. After all, he was trembling harder than her.

"L-let him g-go," Birdy managed between tremors, her heart in her mouth, "Leave him a-alone."

Spot's attacker barely scoffed, pushing Spot harder into the stone wall.

"Digger," he spat, as if referring to a dog. It made her blood boil. The man trying to kidnap her—Digger, was it?—wrung the knife around on the edge of her throat. She bit back a small yelp as blood trickled down from the wound, and onto her shirt.

She forced herself to return all her attention to Spot, whose hands were grasping at the leader's, but to no avail. He was gasping, his chest heaving for air, as the strangling grew worse. He was trying to free himself from the pressure that was cutting off his air, but nothing worked. Birdy felt useless, just standing there watching. Were they gonna make her sit there and watch the love of her life, her best friend die? She figured they were… it was some sort of torture. And it was working.

The look in Spot's eye grew more intense. It made Birdy's heart break. What had him so scared? Sure, he was dying, but this look was different. He wasn't scared of dying, no newsie was, it was something else. The usually emotionless newsie looked genuinely frightened. Birdy couldn't place it, and in all truth, it kind of scared her. All the leader was doing was strangling him… Birdy held back a gasp as she remembered. The last leader of Brooklyn, a newsie by the name of Seed, had died. He'd been strangled by the leader of Harlem when Spot was younger. He'd seen everything. Spot wasn't scared—the memories were being stirred up… he still felt guilty, despite it being over four years ago.

He sent her a warning glance. His lips had turned blue, his face devoid of any color. He knew he wasn't going to make it, she didn't want to believe it though, and was desperate to warn her. The sun began to rise—had it really been that long? As soon as she noticed the sun beginning to peek out, the tears fell even harder. Snuffling and sobbing, she refuse to take her eyes off the dying newsie. He wouldn't live to see another day. Her knees gave out as the sobs racked her body, the tears blinding her, pressing the knife even harder into her throat as she fell, but she didn't even notice. She looked away, not even daring to look at his face as the last breath of life left him. But, before she knew it, the tight grasp on her eyes had fallen, and she stumbled backwards, jerking her eyes open, and noticed something black racing inches away from her face. She turned towards the opening of the alley, and almost fainted right then.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, yes I did leave it at a cliffhanger. Deal with it ;) Oh, and please review... it keeps me writing! Even just a simple 'nice' would do! I like knowing who's reading my story! Thanks! :)**

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><p>mysterygirl: Thank you so much! Erm... Barny is a character I made in my sleep...? I'm still trying to figure her out, haha :) Hope this is soon enough? I know... long time. Anyways.<p>

Thanks to anyone who read or reviewed! You all deserve some sort of candy or sugar! :)


	5. Trepidation of the Night: Part II

_Oh good gracious, I told you guys this would come out soon... and it ended up being a longer wait than the first part. I wonder if you guys can forgive me? I'm such a horrible person. I guess I can say I got really caught up in school, and then with softball after school ended. After softball ends, I swear, I'll kick this in full gear. I swear! I swear, I swear, I swear! Oh, I feel so bad. _

_Alright, so about this chapter... It was meant to be more focused on the ending, but I guess that I was so focused onto getting this out there for you guys to read, that I just kinda stuffed it in at the end. And you can definitely tell which part of the story I picked up on tonight. Oh well, this is what I get for leaving this to the last minute. Hope you still enjoy it though! Buon divertimento!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, only my OC's (Birdy, Barny, Glider, Freckles, Havoc, Sailor, Swamp, Alpha, Digger, Gama, and Daze). _

_I promise, I tried really hard to get everyone in character. Kinda failed. Even my own creations (by that I mean OCs) were off! Oh, I hope you'll forgive me!_

_Good night, and good wishes!_

_~Bandit :)_

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><p>Musketeer<p>

Chapter 3

Trepidation of the Night

Part II

Despite there only being a faint trace of light streaming from the sun, Birdy could just make out the faces of each and every one of the people who stood at the edge of the alleyway. Glider lowered the slingshot he'd just used to shoot the leader with. He instantly dropped Spot, letting the Brooklyn newsie drop to the ground. She shoved Digger away and was immediately by Spot's side, running a hand over his ice-cold face. _Open those beautiful eyes, Spot_, she silently begged him. _Come on._

Brushing a strand of her black hair away from her battered face, Birdy turned towards the rescue group. Barny was leading them, her eyes watering. Jack, Freckles, and Havoc had their fists raised, prepared to attack. Sailor and Swamp stood shoulder-to-shoulder, guns in their hands. Glider stood fingering his slingshot once again. With tear staining her cheeks, Birdy looked back at Spot, brushing his sandy-blonde bangs from his sweaty forehead, and drew a haggard breath.

And suddenly, his eyes were open, clouded. But Birdy couldn't have been happier. She nearly cried out in bliss. His chest was heaving, and he started to cough uncontrollably. She quickly enveloped him in a hug, before rocking back on her heels. Havoc and Jack stepped forward, lifting him off the ground, which Birdy did not approve of. She was well aware that after being strangled for more than a few seconds, one would become dizzy… coming that close to losing his life, she was sure that immediately getting him up would somehow affect his health, despite it already being totally trashed at the moment. He leaned heavily on them, ignoring his pride for once.

Barny had run around the alleyway, and now handed Spot his completely collected cane back. He accepted it, and used that as well. Birdy watched her friend, who was completely drained of energy, before Barny sprinted up to her as well, her knife in hand. Birdy grinned and accepted it. Spot sucked in a huge breath of air, before turning towards the two attackers, one who had a rather large gash on his head, another who was bleeding out from a sword wound, and the last, who was just blearily waking up from an unconscious state, due to a shoe to his head.

Spot cleared his throat, "What are your names? I think Birdy and I here deserve to know who attacked us," he didn't waver once, his voice strong and commanding, already holding a steely edge to it. His gaze was cold and calculating as he stared down the three goons, who, Birdy realized, were not much older than any of them.

"I'm Gama," the supposed 'leader' muttered, still holding a hand to his bleeding forehead. "This is Digger," he pointed to the one who'd attacked Birdy most of the time, "And this insufferable piece of grime is Daze."

"Give this message to Alpha," Spot started in a low, quiet voice, that instantly told you that he meant business… and trouble, "If any of you Queens newsies step into my territory again, even one inch, I will hear about it. And mark my words, I will personally come and soak you," he took a trembling breath, forcing himself to calm down. "You have deeply disgraced Brooklyn, and you tell Alpha that he is no longer welcome here. As for you three, if you step foot in Brooklyn, in my city, which I rule!—you won't get to see the daylight again. You won't have to only face me, but all of Brooklyn, Harlem, and the Bronx!"

Jack stepped forward, "Expect Manhattan there too!"

Birdy looked around, feeling she had to do something as a rouse of cheers erupting from the Brooklyn newsies, "If you step into Brooklyn, I'll tell my father, and believe me when I tell you he'll arrest you in a heartbeat. You are _not_ going to disturb us again."

"Havoc, Sailor, Swamp," Spot breathed, his actions finally catching up to him, "Take these sorry excuses for newsies back to Alpha. Don't step into Queens. Just drop them off. And make sure they go running."

Spot waited until Havoc and Sailor had tied the three's hands behind their back, and taken them out of sight, before he completely collapsed. Luckily, Glider, Freckles, and Jack were there.

"See what I mean?" Birdy rolled her eyes at them all, "I knew he'd lost a lot of oxygen. You need to sit down, Spot."

The leader lost his intimidating demeanor at once, "I'm fine, Birds," but his voice suggested differently. It was frail, and broken, and tired, in a way that surprised Birdy instantly. Was it just her, or did Spot sound… weak?

His knees buckled suddenly, and his eyes closed. Birdy jumped back in surprise, while Barny gave a soft scream. It wasn't that Birdy wasn't expecting it, she was, it's just… it seemed so human of him. So normal. He was vulnerable, and it did nothing but make Birdy uneasy.

"We should carry him to the, uh, the lodging house," Birdy had trouble finding voice, her gaze pinned on Spot. She swallowed with some difficulty. "It's best for him to get some rest. If he wakes up soon, we want him to be in a familiar environment."

"Birdy," Barny caught her arm as they started off, making sure she was gentle with the shaken up girl, "We should go get Shiner to look at his head."

"I don't know what good he'll do. Spot'll just have a pretty bad gash tomorrow."

"Please, Birdy, will you at least see him?" Barny looked at her with big, pleading eyes. "Maybe you're more injured than you know. Please?"

Birdy stared deep into Barny, "You think I wouldn't know if I was badly injured? We need to focus our attention on Spot, c'mon."

"Birds, his three best friends have got him. He's in good hands for now. The sun's starting to rise, and we need to get back before it does," Barny grabbed Birdy's trembling hand, "You've just been through a lot, and you should take a little break before you step right into the action."

"But they _need_ me," Birdy insisted, "What if they mess something up?"

"All they have to do set him on his bed," she gave a light chuckle, "Even _they're_ not that dumb."

"Barny, all I want to do right now is make sure Spot's okay," Birdy returned to her persistent arguing, "Don't you want to make sure he's alright?"

"I'm worried about him too," Barny took a deep breath, "Don't you think I'm not. But I know that Freckles can at least set Glider and Jack straight. It will only take a couple of minutes, and we can go straight back to the lodging house afterwards."

Barny could tell Birdy still wasn't even considering it, "No."

"It would make me feel a lot better if you did. Even if you just checked in with Shine," Barny sighed slowly, feeling kind of bad for manipulating her friend, but she just didn't realize how injured she actually was, "I'd have less on my mind, and then I'd be able to focus more on helping Spot."

Birdy's eyes slowly dimmed, and she looked away slightly, "Okay, _fine._ Take me to Shiner. But he's _not g_oing to do much."

Barny lead Birdy through Brooklyn, and across the docks. Birdy had met Shiner on several occasions, but he'd always come to them, wherever was needed. She wasn't sure she liked the man, but she knew Barny wasn't going to give in, and she was too tired to argue any more than she had. Finally, they came upon an old fishing shed.

"You're kidding, right?" Birdy let her dark eyes take in the place. There were several holes in the rotting wooden roof, and the thing was slightly slanted to the left, probably from the strong winds. A smell of sea salt, and something dying hung around the shack, and it made Birdy sick.

"I wish I was," Barny said sadly, "He can't afford much else. For him," she took a shuttering breath, "This is a luxury suite."

So, he was a doctor. And he was living like a street rat. Birdy rolled her eyes, and prepared herself for the worst.

iIiIi

_The sounds of gunfire sounded through the docks, and all peacefulness was lost. Heaving, Spot weaved in and out of the crates and through all the screaming people, running towards the river. Unlike them, he was heading to the gunshots. Fear raced through him like a wave, all he could feel was numb. He's not dead, Spot told himself, he can't be dead, he can't be. He only pushed harder, sprinting now. Dread got the better of him as he pulled out his gun, and headed towards Harlem._

Spot jolted awake, snapping his eyes open as he instantly tried to sit up as the shock of not knowing where he was sank in. He looked around, but was pushed down onto his back again by a gentle hand on his chest. He turned slightly, and met the bright eyes of a worried Barny.

"Look who's finally awake," Barny smiled at him, moving her hand, "Birds said not to let you move too much. Are you dizzy?"

He was, but he wouldn't let Barny know that. He simply shrugged, "Nah." He cleared his throat, and looked away, shifting his weight on the pillow.

Barny gave a small, lilting chuckle, "I know you are, Spot Conlon."

She ran a hand through his hair, looking upon him in a caring way. She pursed her lips, and let herself relax. She watched him with peaceful eyes, making her breathing slow down. She was so happy Spot was awake. She looked outside the window, listening to the birds chirping, although it was no longer morning. Suddenly the door to Spot's room burst open, and Birdy slid through the crack, a bag of money in one hand, and two hotdogs in the other.

"Oh, good afternoon, Sunshine," Birdy grinned at Spot before tossing Barny a hotdog and the bag of money. She shut the door behind her, "How're you?"

"Wait," Spot shifted around again, "Did you say _afternoon_?"

"Yep," Barny nodded simply as she feasted on her simple dinner—she hadn't had anything all day.

"How long've I been out?" His eyes widened in fear, and he shivered.

"Only a couple of hours. You passed out at around five, and it's around seven now," Birdy quickly did the math in her head, "Not too bad."

"Yes it is! I gotta get down there. I have about a million things to plan," he tried to unwrap himself from the cocoon of blankets around him, but Birdy was firm.

"Spot, don't move, unless you want to pass out again and miss another fourteen hours."

"He sounds like one of those stuck-up teenage girls who always worries about everything, doesn't he?" Barny finished off the hotdog, and leaned back in the chair she was sitting in, content.

Birdy chuckled and nodded, "Besides, you don't have to worry, Spot. We took care of everything. Me and Barny switched off selling for you."

Suddenly, he had whipped his head towards Birdy, a grimace pulling onto his face, "You what?"

"Well, I mean, Barny went for half the day, and I went for the other half, even though Barny usually sells. We needed someone to watch you, and it was the best option," she shrugged, pulling up another chair and sitting in it.

"Birdy, you told me you would never sell. You told me you would never live that life," his eyes had turned dangerous, and he looked at her in disbelief.

"Spot, you were injured. I -_we_, were _not _just going to let all that money go to waste. You needed it, and it was absolutely no problem. It's a one-time thing, okay? I swear," she met his eyes readily, her face completely calm.

"But what about your neck?" his tone had turned icy, "You're hurt too."

Birdy reached up absentmindedly, and brushed her fingers over the gash that lay on her collarbone, which she'd covered up by the shirt she'd borrowed from Barny.

The black-haired girl was silent for a moment as Barny stared out the dirty window, and Spot bored his eyes into Birdy's head. "Want a hotdog? I've suddenly lost my appetite."

In all truth, the king was dying for food, and since he was a newsie, that was saying something. He shrugged, even the simple motion making his head swim with dizziness, but he tried his best to ignore it, "I could eat."

Birdy gave a slight smile, seeing right through his façade. _Since when had those two been able to read him so easily?_ Spot couldn't help but think to himself. He gratefully accepted the wrapped food, careful not to seem too eager.

"You don't have to act so damn proud around us, Spot. We know you're human, and frankly we _don't_ care," Birdy resisted smirking knowingly at the famous newsie, while Barny nodded in agreement.

However, Barny suddenly pulled a face, "Speaking about acting, Birds," the caramel-haired newsie leaned back in the wooden chair, propping her up on Spot's bedside table, earning a disapproving looking from the elder newsie, and twirling a strand of her hair with her finger, "What was that about Snyder this morning? And I know it wasn't because you work for him, so don't try that with me. What's really going on?"

Birdy instantly paled, dropping her usually-bright eyes to the dusty floor, before raising them ever-so-slight to exchanged worried glances with Spot. He shot her a look back that clearly said, "This is you battle, not mine" before lazily taking a bite out of the now unwrapped hotdog.

"I, u-uh… I uh," Birdy stuttered, scared. _Why am I so frightened?_ Birdy wondered to herself. Barny was her best friend and Spot already knew. "Barns, I'm the daughter of Warden Snyder. I hate him. And well, you know you can't choose your family."

Barny's face turned stony, and her eyes cold, "And here I was thinking you were his slave. Here I was pitying you," her voice had gained a certain chills, a certain edge to it that made Birdy suspect the younger had been hanging around Spot for too long.

"I _am_ like his slave, Barns. Just because I'm his daughter doesn't change the way he looks at me. In his eyes—the damned bastard—I'm just a waste of space," she gave her friend a meaningful look, but the newsie refused to meet her gaze, and instead, busied himself with picking at her nails.

"And I suppose I just wasn't important enough to know this?" And suddenly Barny had met Birdy's ashamed gaze, an intimidating glimmer in her eyes—the all-too-familiar icy Brooklyn fire.

Birdy gave a small sigh, tears stinging in the back of her eyes as she struggled to find the words to explain things to her best friend. "Barny, I didn't want _anybody_ to know. I was afraid they'd treat me differently if they knew I was related to the warden. I realize now that was a mistake."

"When'd you figured that one out, dumbass?" Barny spat her words, tears welling in her own eyes. "How could you just not tell me like that? Don't you trust me?"

"I do, Barns-."

"Alright, the both of you just shut up!" Spot suddenly spoke up from the bed, "The last thing we all need is for the two most sensible people in this dump to start fighting over something senseless. You two are best friends, something like this shouldn't matter."

Barny turned in her chair towards Spot, the anger not even faltering once, "You don't sound so surprised there, Spotty-boy. You knew, didn't you?" No love or affection hung on her words like usual. Spot stared calmly back at her, his expression remaining emotionless. "So you told Spot? Of all the ways to betray a friend…"

Once again, Birdy found the rage directed at her, "I grew up with Spot! We lived right next to each other! Of course he fuckin' knew!"

The blue-eyed girl had despair clearly etched in her face as she met her best friend, her sister, stand up suddenly, sending the chair flying back into the rugged wall, and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind her, causing the room to shake. Birdy felt the salty drops rolling down her usually rosy cheeks as she stood, her eyebrows furrowing, her expressions morphing from misery to anguish to confusion in less than a second.

The floorboards creaked underneath her feet as she stepped forwards slightly, her eyes focused on the door her friend had just stormed through. Kneading her hands together as her heart pounded, Birdy let her mind twist around it all. She heard the bed creaking behind her, but didn't process it until later. When she finally registered that there was only _one_ bed in the room, and person on that said bed was _not_ supposed to be moving, she turned on her heel. Spot was sitting up on the bed, palms face down on the surely uncomfortable mattress. His eyes peered into her, but the usually hard gaze was laced with concern, and he was regarding her, in a gentle way, rather than completely judging her as usual. It was a nice feeling, she had to admit, but she was a little more than busied with the situation to feel the full effect of the unusual change.

"Birds, what was that?" his voice was soft, and it was one of those rare times when he actually cared. She could tell as the masks were melting away, and for once, he was just another caring, concerned friend. She quickly forced the smile that was threatening to creep its way onto her face from her mind.

"You shouldn't be moving, Spot, you should be in bed. You are healed enou-," she was quieted as he stood, without an effort, and placed his hands tenderly on her shoulders, looking into her.

"I don't care, love," he murmured, pulling her closer to him.

"I think she was a bit worn out. She was really worried about you, you know," Birdy finally gave in, looking out the dirty window, in attempt to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

"You know what I think?" he breathed, wrapping his arms around her, in a tight, comforting embrace.

"What?"

He looked down on her tear-stained face, a small, sad smile gracing his lips as he considered his best friend, "I think she wasn't the only one."

He leaned forward, and brushed his lips against hers, before, tightening their embrace. Birdy couldn't help herself. She burst into tears, and he slowly comforted her, and let her sob into his favorite shirt—a rare occurrence indeed, running his hands through her black hair. _Damn_, Birdy thought as the tears unwillingly dripped from her eyes, _damn being so tired._

iIiIi

"And just when I thought I'd gotten healed from those men," Birdy studied her reflection in the mirror that sat in the Brooklyn lodging house, fingering the bruises and cuts. Her eyes travelled from her busted lip, to the gash directly above her left eye. Despite all her staring in the mirror, she didn't notice the person sneaking up behind her.

"So that's what those injuries were from," the black-haired girl nearly jumped ten feet in the air as Barny's voice sang out behind her. "I noticed them, but I figured it'd be better if I didn't ask."

Birdy let the corners of her mouth to tip upwards slightly, "It's rather typical though, the day I get back from nearly nine months in Queens, I get a friendly welcome from the oh-so-generous town of Manhattan—a pair of muggers, coming to say hello."

This caused the younger girl to burst out laughing, and Birdy finally turned to face her. They gave goofy grins at each other, before Barny's face melted into something more serious. "Look, Birds," she rubbed the back of her neck nervously, "I'm real sorry about earlier. I don't know what got into me. I was just—I guess kinda shocked out of my mind."

"Oh, it's alright. You know I'm not the type to dwell on things much," she returned to smile.

Barny decided to joke around a bit, "I think I was a tiny bit mad that of all the times I'd been busted by Snyder, you were his daughter all along. Where were you the eighteen times he dragged my ass into the refuge?"

This caused another series of giggles to erupt from the friends. "I think I was a little more than busy with all the Manhattan newsies to be honest. I mean, I turn away for one second, and next thing I know, half of them are there again, doing time. It's all I can do to either break them out or beg my father on my hands and knees to let them go."

"I feel you, I'm the same way with Spot, but everything he does required me saving his sorry soul." A crueler note came from her tone, but Birdy knew Barny meant it with love.

"Hey, girls? You joining in?" Birdy turned towards Sailor, who was huddled around the poker table with a handful of other newsies. "We're about to start."

"I suppose," Barny drawled as she stepped forward, her hands on her hips, "As long as 'Hattie's not coming. I couldn't stand another game with that obnoxious, bastard of an assh-."

Swamp laughed from beside his red-headed best friend, "Shush, we have the little ones around," he looked at Hops, a young new bird of Spot's, who just shrugged and turned away.

"And besides, that's not until next Thursday," Sailor began to shuffle the cards as Barny eyed him warily.

"Oh good, I'll make sure to be in Queens next week then," Barny allowed a big grin to grace her lips before she strutted forward, and plopped into the nearest open chair. She turned towards Birdy with pleading eyes, before patting the spot next to her. "Please, Birds, please?"

"I'm absolutely horrible at poker," Birdy backed away slowly, "Making a fool of myself was not on my list of things to do today."

"Oh, come on, you can't lose when you're sitting next to me," Birdy knew she meant, 'Don't sweat it, I'll help you cheat.' A sly smirk passed over Barny's face.

"It's because of you that I'm going to lose," Birdy covered smoothly as she too sat herself in a wooden chair.

Swamp laughed, "Atta girl, Birds. Way to step forward."

"Oh, I'm sure she's the bravest person here," Sailor couldn't hide the sarcasm in his voice as he met Birdy's gaze.

"All right, enough chit-chat boys," Barny started, before sharing a glance with Birdy, "And girls. You ready to get your ass kicked by a sixteen year old?"

iIiIi

Not only was she physically exhausted—she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since two nights before, but she was emotionally drained as well. The excitement of the two days had simple taken it out of her. Jack had long since gone back to Manhattan, hours before Spot had actually woken up, and nothing else was on her mind. She peeled off of her clothes, and could already hear Barny snoring her nose off—so much for a fun-filled night. She practically collapsed into her bed, the hard mattress doing nothing to help her already sore body, but at least it was something she could sleep on. As soon as her head hit the pillow, sleep was instantaneous, literally.

She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but she knew it couldn't have been that lengthy. She could feel the exhaustion playing at her muscles, and into her brain. A numbing effect captivated her brain. What had woken her up? She squinted her eyes through the darkness, and looked for the familiarity of Barny's sleeping form… but her bed was a mess, and nothing was laying there. Birdy knew that it was still nighttime, the window was completely covered by dark shadows.

Had something happened? And then something reached her ears, turning her blood cold, making her skin prickle. It was inhuman. And suddenly she was alert; pulling herself out of bed, and scrambling for the door. She fumbled with the doorknob, a sense of urgency filling her, fear constricting in her throat. She tugged the door open, and tore through the dimly lit hallway towards where the sound was. The last place she wanted to be.

Breathing hard, she turned through the hallways of the lodging house by memory. The screams had stopped, but it didn't mean a thing to her. What was going on? Why—why was this happening?

She could see a brighter light across the way, and she tentatively crept around the last corner, something familiar meeting her gaze, yet the scene confused her even more. Sailor was sitting on the dusty floor, Swamp right next to him, his chocolate brown eyes closed as he rested on his friend's head, though Birdy could see from his labored breathing he wasn't sleeping—just waiting. Next to the two inseparable friends, sat Havoc, who, as usual looked extremely exhausted, his eyes were bloodshot, though he seemed awfully alert. Next came Glider, who had his knees pulled up to his chest, his head rested on his knobby kneecaps, his hands clasped together, as though he were saying some kind of prayer. Freckles was the last, with an arm around Barny's shoulders, pulling her closely to his body. The brown-haired girl's eyes were red, and tears streamed down her face, as she shivered, obviously thankful for the heat her brother was providing. Of all the things Birdy had expected to see, this was on one of them.

Barny looked up towards her friend. "Why didn't you wake me?" Birdy murmured softly as she slowly headed towards the siblings, who were closest to his door. Spot's door.

"I know you'd wake up soon enough. Everyone does. No one can sleep through that. Us six, we're the bravest. No one else wanted to see what was wrong," Barny replied, her voice cracking as she sniffled. It was unnerving to see her friend in such a state. Barny was one of the strongest people Birdy knew.

"It's happened before?" Birdy knelt in front of her best friend as Freckles watched, his lips pursed with despair.

"All the time. I mean, it's been a while, and it's never been this bad before," she replied evenly, watching the door with frightened eyes. Birdy nodded in understanding. She knew why, too.

"I'm going to go check on him," Birdy gave a small sigh, swiveling her head back towards the door.

"I'll go with you," Barny made to move, but Birdy stopped her.

"No, I'd rather you didn't. It seems like—his pride, you know."

Barny nodded, and relaxed again, "Be careful, Birds. His temper can be frightening."

Birdy smiled sadly as she stood, "You think me, of all people, didn't know that? I'll make sure to tread lightly."

She eased the bedroom door open, careful to not make much noise. Closing the door quietly behind her, she observed the scene. The king had created a cocoon of blankets around him, and he was fighting and kicking to get them off him, still completed absorbed in his nightmare. Taking a shuttering breath, Birdy tiptoed forward, kneeling by the bed. She didn't want to startle him, God only knew what would happen then, but she desperately wanted to get him from slumber. She was about to shake him awake, when she remembered her mother's words from a long time ago, "When someone is sleeping, or is having a nightmare, never ever shake them awake. Shock would surely wait." Birdy allowed a slight smile onto her face before she wiped it off.

Placing a soft hand on his arm, she nearly drew her hand back. His skin was like ice! Running her other hand through his sandy-blonde hair, and onto his sweaty hand, Birdy watched her friend sleep. He gave no signs of awakening from the nightmare.

She rubbed his arm gently, whispering word of comfort, before she saw his icy blue eyes snap open in fear, and he jumped in shock. She quickly silenced him as she nearly lunged forward and plopped a tender kiss onto his cheek. That would be the second time this week that was glad to see his steely eyes.

"Birdy?" he muttered in confusion, his voice hoarse from the screaming, "What're you doing here?"

She stepped backwards, "Oh, you had a little fan party outside. They wanted me to come wake you up so they could get your autograph."

A smirk played on her lips as Spot stood, and stretched, "It was Barny that sent you, wasn't it?" suddenly, he looked sad, his eyes shining with distress.

"Spot, it's okay. I came by myself," Birdy could tell he was already beating himself up about it.

"You didn't have to do that-," she shushed him as he turned to face her, shivers snaking up and down his arms and spine.

"I wanted to, Spot." She gave a small sigh, "It's alright. Don't be afraid."

"What was I screaming?" he ran a hand through his hair, and she wondered how many times he'd woken himself up from his own yells.

"I—I couldn't tell," she whispered softly, sad to disappoint him.

He turned, and kicked a chair, rage filling his body, "Damn it! Why am I so, why am I s-so we-?"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Spot Conlon," she said sternly, pointing her finger in his face, "I've been saying for the past few minutes, it's alright. No one cares."

She couldn't miss the sadness that flashed in his eyes, "I-I, I don't know…"

Birdy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as his gaze dropped to the ground, "Talk to me about it. I'm here for more than just charming to death."

He didn't even crack a smile, "It's so scary. Birds, I don't know what to do. Why am I like this?"

"Okay, here's the deal, Spot," she looked straight into his gaze, "The thing is, you almost died out there earlier today. You were honestly seconds away, and there was nothing I could've done to save your life. You're reminded of Seed, who, despite you pushing it all away, still miss. You remembered the time you _thought_ you left him down. And trust me, it's not every day you almost get killed. It's not every day another borough's leader sends assassins to kill you."

He stood, at a loss of words as Birdy gave it to him cold, "But-."

"I'm in love with you, there's nothing to be afraid of here. We won't let it happen to you again," she saw him wavering uncertainly, and she pulled him into her arms, as he made a choking sound. Was she ready to comfort him? Was she really the best option for him.

"Birdy, I-i-I I'm scared."

"It's alright, Spot, I'm here. I'm here."

And suddenly, he buried his head into her shoulder.

Birdy felt her breath catch in her throat as tears pricked in the back of her throat. But Spot beat her to it.

In that moment, Spot Conlon remembered how to cry.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: How about that ending? In my mind, this scene was a lot more emotional. Oh well. I hope you'll guys will review? It really brightens my day when I see that little notice in my inbox! Thank you so much! Also, please excuse any mistakes... it's almost two in the morning, and I'm not at full attention :P**

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><p>Ealasaid Una: Thanks for reviewing! Also, Spot and Barny are just really good friends. Barny is siblings with Freckles, though. Also, thanks for the compliment. Sorry for the wait!<p>

J.E. Magic: Thank you so much! I hope this one is as good? (Probably not?) Haha ;)

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed... you guys are awesome!


	6. Saving the Day

_So, yeah. If you haven't already noticed, my writing isn't as good as quality in the summer as it usually is, but at least I update faster! *Fake smile* Yeah, sorry about that. In this chapter, we finally see the strike (since, if you remember way back to the first chapter, this takes place as that is happening). I promise, within the next two chapters (maybe) the strike will be over, and we'll be back to our usual story line! Yay! Also, sorry if Spot seems like a jerk in this one, I kinda wanted to capture how he'd react after all that tiring stuff going on. And I didn't want him to see absolutely perfect after losing so much sleep the night before... and this is kinda what resulted, haha :) Hope you enjoy! Buon divertimento!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. (Only my OCs, Birdy, Barny, Glider, Sailor, Swamp, etc.)_

_I tried, I swear! I tried really hard to get them on character. I don't know if I succeeded, though._

_Also, sorry for any mistakes, it's three in the morning, and I'm not at the top of my game (plus, I don't have an editor), so if you kindly point them out, I'll happily fix them!_

_Good night, sweet dreams :)_

_~Bandit_

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><p>Musketeer<p>

Chapter 4

Saving the Day

It was a well-known fact that New York was like Siberia during autumn and winter, but no matter how long Birdy had lived there, she could never get used to the cold. Shaking hard, she felt herself wake up, but there was something off. There was something by her side—and that something was very warm. Without even thinking, her eyes still shut closed, she snuggled into whatever it was, embracing the heat. It took a minute for her brain to process everything, and when she did, she snapped her eyes open, and looked around.

She had fallen asleep… she had fallen asleep in a room that was not Barny's. No, she wasn't even in the right bed. She turned her head slightly, and bit back a small gasp. She'd fallen asleep in bed with Spot Conlon. She forced herself to remember back to last night. _Oh yeah,_ Birdy thought, _I didn't actually fall asleep with him._

Smirking to herself only slightly, she slipped out from under the moth-eaten covers and padded across the cool wooden floor, opening the creaky door slowly and silently. Though she couldn't really tell if Spot was asleep or not, she didn't want to disturb him. Standing idly in the hall, she stretched her hands way above her head, before yawning and looking around. Smacking her lips shut, Birdy squinted her eyes, putting all her weight on the wall behind her. She crossed her hands for a moment, blinking harshly, before sprinting off towards the staircase, her throat feeling as though she'd just poured cement down it.

Not missing a beat, she raced down the creaky steps, avoiding all the holes and lose boards. Dragging her hands along the railing, she felt the smooth wood under her small hands. It was worn, from all the use. _Sorta like the newsies_, she mused to herself, before jumping the last two steps, and landing on the main floor with a muffled 'thump'. Sharply turning the corner, she spun, before heading towards the dining room, or what was meant to be a dining room.

It wasn't much, that was sure, Birdy thought as the room came into view. There was an oversized chair resting on the dusty wooden floor, and a small table, mostly used for poker, but was centered on the hardwood. A couple of creaky chairs were lined around the circular furniture, but that was all. Barny sat head of the table, like she always did when Spot wasn't around, or in this case, sleeping in late. Havoc was to the left, and Glider to the right, being the third and second in command, respectively. Next was just a jumble of newsies, some sitting, but most of them were standing around, waiting for Barny to make an announcement.

"Luckily, it was taken care of, for the first time," Birdy caught onto the sentence just as she walked towards her brunette friend.

Swamp and Sailor both flashed her identical smiles, before tuning into Barny's speech. Birdy caught the girl's hazel eyes, before leaning against the wall.

"All thanks to Birdy, over there, guys," a smile graced her lips, as it became apparent as to what Barny was talking about. It must've been new to them to have someone brave enough to face Spot.

A light dusting of flush passed over her cheeks as she took a sudden interest in her shoes, "I swear, it's impossible to get sleep here."

This earned a few scattered chuckles before Barny cleared her throat, a grin plastered on her lips. "Now, none of us are to wake Spot, as he needs his rest. We all know what today is, right, boys?"

_We do?_ Birdy creased her eyebrows, a frown on her face. She had no clue what was going on today, other than the usual selling, and the daily poker game. Hops, the youngest newsie there, voiced her thoughts, his eleven-year-old voice ringing through the room.

"Nah, Smallfry," Birdy smiled at the old nickname. Barny blushed slightly, "What's today?"

"Well, remember? We heard from Snippet that today the Hatties were planning to raid the Distribution Center, and Muddy told us that the bulls had heard about it, and were gonna stop 'em. We're gonna help their sorry asses, excuse me, sorry, butts, today," Barny put her hands on her hips as she explained, the corners of her mouth pulling slightly upward into a smirk.

"Oh, yeah," Hops scratched his head, before crossing his stubby arms and sitting down with a huff, "Only the best shooters are allowed to go."

"Now, don't pout, Hops," Barny soothed as she stood and made her way through the crowd towards the younger, "it's not that bad. We need someone here to hold the city, you'll be fine."

"Ah, you're only saying that 'cause you're the best in Brooklyn, other than Spot!" Swamp called out from the crowd. Sailor sent him an apologetic look. The two were nearly inseparable, equal except when it came to shooting. Sailor was a pro, training by Spot himself, but Swamp hadn't been so lucky. "Newsies like me and Hops have to stay here."

"Don't worry, you'll be in the amazing company of Birdy, here," Barny smiled brightly. But Birdy just looked at her in shock.

"Wait—I'm not going?" she demanded of her friend. She saw Barny curse under her breath.

"Yeah? Hadn't Spot told you?" Barny furrowed her eyebrows, and looked at the elder in concern.

"No," Birdy fumed.

"Sorry," Barny bit her lower lip, before turning away, "Alright guys! Time for breakfast. You all know what to do."

The newsies filed out of the lodging house, one by one, until it was only Birdy and Barny left.

"Look, I'm real sorry, Birds. I didn't know he hadn't told you," Barny placed a hand on her shoulder, but Birdy just waved her away.

"It's alright, I don't like the action much. But I'm still afraid about Spot getting even more severely injured. You'll take care of him won't you?"

Barny placed a hand over her heart, a brave smile passing over her face, "Always and forever, kid. Now, let's go and get us some breakfast."

iIiIi

"You got your slingshot, right Barns?" Birdy watched as Spot tucked his black cane into his belt loop, and fastened his red suspenders, making towards his grey newsie hat. The lodging house was buzzing as the best shooters headed around old place, getting prepared for heading towards Manhattan. They were early, Birdy knew Manhattan wasn't going to try until later, but Spot was an early planner, and he wanted to get there in time to save all the Hatties, and his best friend from further trouble.

"Yeah, Spot, I got it," Barny looked preoccupied as she searched the group, secretly making sure everyone was ready, "Hey! Freckles, you got my dagger?"

"What would you need that for?" the tall newsie brushed gently past Birdy and towards his younger sibling. Birdy watched them all frivolously, a deep sigh falling from her lips.

"Hey, you all right?" she spun on her heel, and faced the familiar bright blue eyes, that were shining with Brooklyn pride. Spot was standing with purpose, an arrogant air around him as he studied her casually.

"I'm fine," she replied, almost too quick, "Why?"

"I just wanna make sure my girl is alright. You seem… down," he muttered quietly, so as none of the dozens of newsies would hear the concern etched into his tone.

"I just—I wanna make sure Jack'll be okay. You'll get him safe for me, right?" she fidgeted with her hands, the lie passing easily from her mouth.

"I would've without you telling me to, Barns," he played with his slingshot as he spoke, "But I'll try extra hard, alright?"

She smiled warmly, "Thanks, Spot."

He nodded, before licking his lips, concealing his slingshot next to his cane, so it hung down at his hip, before turning, and facing the newsies. "Let's go boys," he caught the glare Barny sent him, "and girls."

A cheer roused from the newsies, and they all fought towards the door, Spot leading them like a general. A small smirk played on Birdy's lips, before she caught the looks of Swamp, and Hops, who were only two of the tons of newsies that were forced to stay behind. A sort of mischievous glimmer glinted in her eyes, before she caught sight of Barny.

"Hey, Barns, wanna do me a favor?" she headed towards her friend, who stopped at once, and turned to look at her, her face beaming.

"I was waiting for you to ask," Barny lead them to the edge of the mob, "I even told Hops and Sailor, and everybody staying."

"Thanks a whole bunch, Barns," Birdy shifted from foot to foot, before grinning nervously, "But uh-."

"Here, take my slingshot," Barny seemed to read her mind, "I swear, it's lucky."

"You sure you wanna do this? I mean, it's no problem if you wanna go," Birdy started, but her friend shushed her.

"Come on, who wants to be around stinky boys, shooting little rocks at grown adults?" Barny gave a small smirk, "Besides, Spot needs you there a lot more than he needs me. Just make sure you don't somehow get yourself thrown from the bridge."

Birdy stepped forward for a swift hug, before pulling back, and accepting the small weapon. "You have a dagger right?" Barny confirmed, her motherly instinct coming into play.

"Of course," Birdy smiled, before winking, and putting to fingers up to her forehead, and lowering them in a sort of salute motion, something she and Barny used as a single for "I'll be fine, don't worry."

Barny nodded, and let her friend go. Birdy tucked Barny's slingshot away, and sprinted towards the door, exhilaration getting the best of her as she raced towards the group. She finally made it to the back of the pack as they neared the bridge. "Hey," Birdy gasped as Glider took hold of her arm, "What're you doing here? And where's Barny?"

Birdy managed a smile, her heart still fluttering in silent fear. "Oh no," Sailor neared them, holding a hand to the bridge of his nose, "You _didn't_, did you?"

She simply beamed up at them, her nose scrunched up as she suppressed a laugh, "Funny thing is, it was actually _her _idea."

"Birds, Spot is going to _kill_ you," Glider gasped, his eyes flashing with fear. "You know he _hates _you doing anything that a newsie does."

She simply shrugged, "Well, he's going to have to deal with it. This way I can keep an eye on him, _and_make sure that Jack is safe."

"You're insane," Sailor shook his head, "You have a death wish or something."

Birdy let herself relax enough to laugh, "I'll be fine, you guys. Just look out for yourselves."

The trio stepped onto the bridge, and Birdy could feel the wind hit her full on the face. She was doing a great job of hiding, and it was easy to stick at the back, where Spot wouldn't be looking. For once, she could make sure both her best friends were safe. She'd made it halfway across, when once again, someone grabbed her arm. The force of someone pulling at her nearly made her fall onto her feet, and the person spun her around so she was facing them. A gasp fell from her lips, and she could see Glider and Sailor falter slightly out of the corner of her eye, but they kept going.

"What are you doing here?" the king's voice was soft, yet menacing, his words slow as rage filled his eyes. Birdy winced. It was worse when he tried to contain himself.

Biting her lip, Birdy grimaced, "Going to help save Manhattan?" she offered weakly. Spot glared at her.

"Where is Barny?" he finally let his anger get the better of him as his voice rose to an ear-splitting shout. Many of the last newsies turned at the sound, but merely ignored whatever was happening.

"She told me I could take her place!" Birdy claimed desperately, as Spot went from boyfriend to best friend in less than a second, "She didn't want to be here anyways."

"You aren't coming," Spot decided for her, done with the conversation.

She stopped him as she turned back towards the group, "It's too late to come back now. You need someone to substitute her," she reasoned, just barely managed to keep her voice from shaking.

"Trust me, we'll be better without you," he spat bitterly.

She raised an eyebrow in shock, "Excuse me, Spot Conlon, _what did you just say?_" She tried to take hold of the argument.

"I said we'll be better without you," he repeated calmly, "because you're a horrible shooter."

"I'm not turning back now, Spot Conlon," she snarled back, "They won't know what hit them. And you aren't going to stop me, no matter how high and mighty you think you are."

She pushed past him, and made her way back towards Sailor and Glider, ripping her arm away as he tried to grab her again, and ignoring his shouts of protest.

"He's just a bit tired," she huffed as they shot her looks of incredulity, "I'll been fine."

Sailor shook his head, as if he couldn't believe she was being so brave. Glider solemnly agreed with him.

When they arrived in Manhattan, it was evident that they were early. No shouts filled the air, there were no signs of bustle, or any reason for distress. They deflected the looks of surprise the civilians shot them.

"So, we're early," Spot stood at the front of them, taking on his role of leader once again, "I want half of you to sneak around the entrance, I'll open the doors when it's time, and then I want you all to burst in. The rest of you, climb onto the rooftops, and wait until my signal. We'll take 'em by surprise with our slingshots. Got it? Birds, we'll go with them."

The girl hesitated as they all split up, and went off towards their designated places of attack. "Don't worry, we'll get them together, okay?" he softened his gaze, offering her his hand. She smiled to herself. She loved this side of him.

He squeezed her hand; his palms were much warmer then hers. She could tell he was nervous for his boys. He wanted everything to go as planned. He led her off towards the rooftop of the distribution center. As they neared the alleyways of leading off to the center, they noticed the Hatties getting ready to pounce into the gates. Spot signaled to Glider, the leader of the group that was to wait to burst in, to hide in the alleys. "Get yourselves prepared," he mouthed, before they snuck around towards the back, where the other half of the Brooklyn newsies were waiting.

"There's a ladder there, Spot," Birdy removed her hand from his and pointed.

He nodded his thanks before addressing the group, "Use that, be quiet, and duck down. We'll go from there."

Birdy watched as they all tiptoed towards the ridge. She ran a hand through her hair, "You ready?"

He chuckled lightly, "That's what I should be asking you. You got your slingshot ready?"

She took it in her hand, looking at its smooth features. It wasn't much—more than her hand-me-down one, but she couldn't help but feel like it would somehow help her. She nodded, before meeting his gaze. A cheeky grin crept onto his face. "We'll get em', don't you worry, Birds."

He leaned forward, and kissed her forehead, before leading her towards the ladder. Crouching just out of sight, Birdy waited with bated breath. She could hear the commotion going on below; the newsies crying out in surprise; the bulls and Delanceys shouting in rage; the large gate closing, just as Spot had predicted it would. She peeked her head over the edge, and could see Jack getting backed into a corner by a group of the villains. She whipped her head around towards Spot, indicating he should give the signal. He took a deep breath, before meeting the gaze of every single one of the newsies that waited patiently, before nodding slightly. And then, simultaneously, they all popped up from their spots like gophers, aiming their slingshots with pride.

Spot, Sailor, and a couple of other newsies jumped down towards the top of the center, while Birdy waited anxiously behind them.

"Never fear, Brooklyn is here!" Birdy suppressed a laugh as Spot swung his slingshot around in his hand. How incredibly cheesy, Birdy smirked.

"Brooklyn!" the roar erupted from the group, and she couldn't keep herself from beaming in pride. They all took aim, and one by one, knocked down the bulls trapping Jack and many other of the Hatties. Birdy let her slingshot fall idly to her side, waiting for the perfect moment. Spot swung down towards Jack, where the two exchanged laughs and spit shook. She crouched, perfectly, and noticed the crowd of Brooklynites gathered at the entrance. Spot was making his way towards them. Keeping a watchful eye on everything, she noticed the group of bulls making their way towards the leader.

Aiming, she closed one eye as to get a better shot. She pulled the band of the slingshot back, placing a small rock in. She waited a split-second, forcing herself to take a ragged breath, breathing rapidly out her nose, before she released the band. She watched, biting her lip, her nerves getting the best of her as she watched the tiny stone hurtle through the muggy air. It weaved past newsies and bulls alike, never once altering its course. She stopped breathing for a moment as she traced its path. Giving a huge shout of joy, and did a small fist pump as it placed itself in the back of the leader's head. Spot whirled around as the man cried out in pain, and landed a punch in his face. He quickly took out the group, before turning towards Birdy, who was grinning in happiness. He smirked for a second, before turning back towards the gate.

Birdy returned to watching the entire scene fold out before her. She saw a Delancey—she couldn't tell which one, trying to sneak up on Racetrack. She let of a huff of air, before leaping down to the exact place Spot had. She fingered her dagger, before going down onto one knee, and with a flick of her wrist, threw it through the air and towards the horrible brother. Race gasped, jumping away from the flying knife, before turning just in time to see it snag the Delancey in the shirt, pinning the shoulder of the cloth to the wall.

She didn't take the time to see what Race did to the bully, and instead jumped down from her position, landing in a cat-like fashion as the rest of the Brookies swarmed the already crowded place. She spun, ducking and kicking out, hitting whatever person wasn't on their side. She felt herself run out of breath as she dodged many hits, and ended up right next to Jack, who, despite being in a raging fight with one of the men trying to attack them, cried out to her.

"Birds, what are you doing here?" she ducked under his arm, and turned, just in time to land a well-aimed kick to the man's face, before jumping around him, and punching another square in the face.

She gave him an impish grin, "What does it look like?" she dove forward in a somersault, before knocking out two more, "I'm havin' fun!"

"How could Spot let you come?" his voice was laced with concern, and Birdy rolled her eyes at his protective natured.

"Well, he didn't have much of a choice, you see."

A loud cheering stopped her instantly, and she turned just in time to see the rest of the bulls run away. She laughed, and shoved Jack towards the entrance.

iIiIi

Resting her head against Spot's shoulder, she held his hand the entire way back to Brooklyn. She was tuckered out from the entire fight, and the great show they'd all put on at Tibby's. She was glad to be returning back to her half-home. Tracing his thumb around the back of her hand, Spot avoided her gaze, smiling gently towards the sunset.

"I-I uh… I wanted to thank you, Birds," he started nervously, and she turned her head upwards to look at him.

"Hmm? Spot thinking about someone other than himself? Impossible," she teased lightly.

He gave her a placid shove, "Don't ruin it. I just wanted to thank you for helping me out earlier."

"Oh come on, you could've taken them out without my shooting," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I probably could've," he chuckled as she gasped in feign surprise.

"That hurt Spot, really it did," she couldn't help but cracking a smile, "But it's always my pleasure to help you, even a little bit."

"I didn't know you could shoot so good," he admitted, looking into her eyes. She shivered, though his regard wasn't unfriendly.

"The slingshot really is magical, I swear," she swung it around in her other hand, just as Spot had been doing earlier. He laughed again, pressing his lips in her hair, admiration filling his face. "I love you, Spot Conlon, no matter how grumpy you act when you're tired."

A knowing smile graced his lips. "Thanks, Birds, I love you too, no matter how rebellious you actually are."

iIiIi

"You're back!" Barny cried, hopping up from her seat at the poker table, where she and Sailor had been engrossed in an intense card game, "And all in one piece too! How 'bout that?"

She looked them over. "Thanks for giving my girl bad ideas," Spot met her gaze and Birdy tossed her back her slingshot. Barny blushed slightly, ashamed.

"You know, I'm gonna head to bed now," she trailed off, inching her way towards the staircase.

Spot suddenly leapt forward, and grabbed her in a hug. She squealed as he began to tickled her. "Spot!" she cried out, "Stop that, I'm not a little girl anymore!"

She pushed her way from him, sticking out her tongue in disgust. "Will you let me hug you if I give you this?"

He tossed her a book, one he'd bought while they were heading through Manhattan. Birdy smiled as the younger, grabbed it as though it was the best thing in the world. She cheered, before grinning up at him.

"Nope," she darted off, the book in hand. Birdy watched her go.

"Well, we won't be seeing her for a couple of weeks," Birdy smiled, as the others laughed. Spot simply rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress his smile.

It was good to have a victory once in a while.

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><p><strong>AN: So, yeah, sorry about that ending. It was kinda rushed, but I really wanted to have it end on a light note, and I also wanted to show that Barny was more than just an emotionally sixteen-year-old. She likes books. Alot. (Which explains her nickname "Barny" which is short for Barn Owl, because she's so smart). Just had to put that out there xD Anyways, please review! It makes me incredibly happy (and keeps me writing). They also feed my muse, Andrew, who does not enjoy being hungry! Thanks so much!**

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><p>Ealasaid Una: Thanks so much for reviewing! This story is practically being written for you, haha :) Thanks for the compliments, and yes, Jack (though, I realize it isn't shown much) has a very close relationship. Though this story more focuses around Birdy and Spot :)<p>

Thanks to anyone who read and reviewed! You guys are great!


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